


Press 'A' to Continue our Last Dance

by doggoneit



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Falling In Love, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:32:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 32,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4689164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doggoneit/pseuds/doggoneit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukishima Kei is a hardworking education officer at the Prefectural Science Museum, and he's in charge of designing a computer game for students where they can interact with different dinosaurs through time.</p>
<p>He outsources this job to a company called Neko+Ma and comes face to face with Kuroo Tetsurou, which might not be a bad thing considering the man is insanely hot, but there's one little problem: Kuroo knows about Tsukishima's past as a stripper because Kuroo had been one of Tsukishima’s clients.</p>
<p>Now that they’ve been reunited, Tsukishima reluctantly begins a friendship that will test his patience, his relationships and his career.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>[Under heavy revision - 50% completed]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: commandercaswell.tumblr.com  
> -
> 
> I know nothing about games so I apologise if I stuffed up massively.

Tsukishima lay in the middle of his living room floor and stared listlessly at the mottled ceiling. There were faint brown patches marring the white paint, likely water damage caused by the leaky roof. It’d be a good idea to get the landlord on that before the ceiling caved in, but there was no real hurry since the chances of rain in the near future was practically zero.

The tepid breeze coming in through the window lifted the curtain’s edge and rifled through the pages of Tsukishima’s notebook, prompting him to cast a dead glance at it. He was supposed to be finalising the last draft of his proposal; it should have been finished hours ago but he’d read it over so many times his eyes would bleed if he read it once again.

The stifling heat was only a hindrance to his work ethic. Things might be better if the air con was working but it had crapped out last summer. He and his roommate never bothered getting it fixed—a terrible mistake in hindsight because the temperatures this year soared to new heights and would only get worse as the years went on. Damned global warming. Tsukishima mentally added the air con to the list of complaints to take to the landlord.

A key jiggled in the front door and his roommate, Yamaguchi, burst into the apartment red-faced and strained with irritation.

“I will quit, I swear I will do it.” Yamaguchi kicked off his shoes and kicked into a rant he’d no doubt been bottling the whole day. “You would not believe how ignorant people are when it comes to technology. I should be used to it by now but no, I still want to shoot myself in the head when customers call up and I might actually do it if one more person asks why their computer runs so slowly and it turns out they’re using Internet Explorer as their default browser.”

A contemplative silence followed that outburst. Yamaguchi spent that time catching his breath and Tsukishima wondered how the heat hadn’t sapped all the energy from his friend. Then again, rage was a powerful emotion that fuelled people into doing wonders. He broke the lull with a sluggish, “Hi.”

Yamaguchi sighed and collapsed on the ground next to him, one arm braced against the couch, and yanked his tie loose. “Hello, my name is Tadashi and I’m here to help you with your IT issues. What can I do for you today?” He dropped the chirpy façade and buried his face in his hands with a drawn-out groan. “Two years out of university and I’m still answering phone calls for a living. Tell me, Tsukki, what am I doing with my life?”

“Wasting it,” Tsukishima said. He gave the same answer every time and he meant it every time. There was no point to Yamaguchi tearing out his hair over a job he couldn’t stand, especially since it paid peanuts. “At least if you were still a phone sex operator, you’d be paid a lot more for a lot less stress. Not to mention you’d be able to satisfy your customers a lot more easily.”

“Very funny.” Yamaguchi dropped his hands and huffed out a broken laugh. “Are you telling me to get back into sex work?”

“No. You’d be just as miserable as you are now but at least you’d be able to afford a tie that doesn’t look like something a colour-blind toddler picked out during a Father’s Day sale.”

Yamaguchi looked down at his tie and plucked at it. It was a blur of green, yellow and pink with silver dots sprinkled at random to resemble the galaxy, which was ironic because that ugly combination was not befitting of this universe. “Yachi bought this for my birthday last year.”

“Like I said.”

“I’m telling her you said that.” Yamaguchi flipped the tie over his shoulder and jerked his chin at the papers on the coffee table which were still fluttering with the breeze. “Anyway, hope your day went better than mine. Did the curator give her final approval?”

Tsukishima couldn’t help the tilt that lifted one corner of his lips. As an education officer at the Prefectural Museum, his main job was supporting student learning. His boss, always eager to try something new, had put him in charge of creating a computer game to engage students in palaeontology. That was his area of expertise, and he’d spent weeks brainstorming different elements and putting them together.

“I talked to Yui this morning,” Tsukishima said. “We decided to go with an interactive game where students click on various parts of the world. They can explore the environment, dig up fossils in different layers and learn about evolution throughout time. I just have to write up a proper proposal encapsulating all of that.”

“That’s great news! Congratulations, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi beamed. “All those times you complained about the workload and here you are brimming with pride and pretending not to be.”

“Don’t congratulate me yet.” Tsukishima ignored the teasing. “That’s pretty much the extent of my involvement. The next step is to take this to the developers and that process is a pain in the ass. They’re part-time workers, all of them, and they’re all booked out.”

“All of them?” Yamaguchi raised his eyebrows.

“All of them,” Tsukishima confirmed. He’d emailed twice to check and they all had other projects backed up to last the next few months. “I should convince Yui to hire some of them full-time. In the meantime, I’ll have to outsource this which means I’ll have to research freelancers, their skills, their rates, book consultations…”

“Sounds like you’ll be busy.”

“Why do I have to waste time on things I shouldn’t need to do?”

Yamaguchi motioned to Tsukishima’s prone body splayed out on the floor. “So lying on your back and complaining about wasting time isn’t wasting time?”

“It makes me feel better about my bitterness.” There were so many things to be bitter about and reflecting on each point in a horizontal position allowed him to think more rationally. “Remember that sponsor prick I was telling you about last month?”

“Ah.” Yamaguchi squinted as he tried to recall the name. “Teru… shima?”

“That’s the one.”

“What about him?”

“He’s been on my back about funding because he thinks the palaeontology department is wasting his money. It’s actually his father’s money, but he likes to show off to the female employees.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “Now that I’m outsourcing the game, he’s going to try and get my nuts chopped off.”

“Defend your nuts with all your honour,” Yamaguchi said in all seriousness. “But if he’s going to keep breathing down your neck then just tell him that outsourcing this project means forging connections with outside companies and providing networking opportunities for all staff members. You’re good at coming up with stuff like that.”

“Terushima hears that spiel so often he’s probably immune to it by now. Maybe if I get one of the females to break the news he might take it better.” Tsukishima considered it, then dismissed it just as quickly. Since he was the head of the project, all complaints would eventually make their way to him and a third party wouldn’t provide much of a buffer.

Yamaguchi tapped a finger against the couch, then brightened. “I have an idea.”

“All ideas are more than welcome at this point.”

“We can ask Yachi for help.”

Yachi, their high school friend, spent most of her time on the other side of the city running her own graphic design company. Despite the anxiety and paranoia she often experienced alone, she excelled in her field and drew people to her like flowers to sunshine, ensuring business was always busy.

As talented as Yachi was in her work, there was just one little problem.

“She doesn’t work in gaming,” Tsukishima pointed out. “She’s a graphic designer. She makes slogans and business cards.”

Yamaguchi gave him the most unimpressed look. “Yachi obviously knows people in the business and she can ask them very nicely whether they can take a look at your game, or refer you to someone else. You know, for someone who graduated as valedictorian, you’re not all that smart.”

“My grades don’t define me,” Tsukishima muttered.

“Clearly.” Yamaguchi took out his phone and began composing a text. “Now stop whinging and finish off the proposal so you can send a copy to Yachi. She’ll need to send it around to her connections.”

Tsukishima gazed up at the ceiling again and brooded over how he’d gotten into this situation. Yui had waved him down one morning, so keen on finding someone to make a game that Tsukishima couldn’t find it in his cold, dead heart to say no. It helped that it wasn’t an inherently difficult task, but there was no team to support him and everything fell on his shoulders.

“It’s so much work,” he sighed.

“I thought you liked your job?” Yamaguchi snapped his phone shut and tossed it to the side. “Whatever happened to spending the rest of your working days setting up dinosaur bones and gazing lovingly at the displays?”

“That’s three percent of my job.”

“So you don’t like it?”

“I like three percent of my job.”

“Well,” Yamaguchi snickered, “you could always return to sex work.”

Tsukishima raised a questioning eyebrow. “Am I supposed to enjoy that more than paperwork?”

“No,” Yamaguchi parroted. “You’d be just as miserable as you are now but at least you’d be able to afford a pair of glasses that don’t look like something an eighty-year-old grandfather plucked out of the discount bin in an op shop.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you too.”

 

.

 

When he was a teenager, Tsukishima thought he was efficient. He broke tasks down into manageable components and wrote them down into his planner so he’d have the final assignment completed at least three days before the due date. He never submitted anything late and his schooling years were generally stress-free because of his good organisational skills.

Then he met Yachi Hitoka, a short but exuberant girl, whose own organisational skills put him to shame. She was the type of person who did all of the required readings a month in advance and have two workbooks for each subject (one for notes and the other for questions). She started major assignments as soon as they were handed out and completed it two weeks before they were due. She was highly efficient, and powered through life with pretty pencils and fancy highlighters.

Time hadn’t changed that particular trait of hers. It didn’t take long for her to reach out to her contacts and come back with their replies. It only took two hours after Tsukishima emailed her the proposal that she texted him.

 

 **[Yachi Hitoka 6:37PM]**  
I found five people who are interested in working on your project :)

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:38PM]  
** Five? Aw, shucks.

 **[Yachi Hitoka 6:38PM]**  
Don’t be embarrassed. This shows how much potential your game really has!

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:39PM]  
** I was being sarcastic.

 **[Yachi Hitoka 6:39PM]**  
How many times have I told you sarcasm doesn’t translate well over text?

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:39PM]  
** Not enough, apparently.

 **[Yachi Hitoka 6:40PM]**  
Check your email, you doof.

 

Tsukishima opened up his inbox and clicked on the new message. It was a list of the five people and their résumés. He flicked through the documents but none of their credentials meant anything to him when he didn’t know what he was supposed to looking for. The best thing to do would be calling them all up and asking for a quote, maybe even setting up a consultation meeting. The smart thing to do would be saving himself the time and effort.

 

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:46PM]  
** Who’s the best fit for this job?

 **[Yachi Hitoka 6:47PM]  
** Tsukki—! They’re ALL the best. That’s why I recommended them ALL.

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:48PM]  
** I’m sure, but who’s the BEST.

 **[Yachi Hitoka 6:48PM]  
** You’re just trying to avoid work, aren’t you?

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:49PM]  
** Maybe.

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:49PM]  
** Please.

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:49PM]  
** I’ll buy fugashi.

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:49PM]  
** It’s your favourite.

 **[Yachi Hitoka 6:50PM]  
** You’ll buy me that anyway.

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:50PM]  
** I’ll buy more.

 **[Yachi Hitoka 6:50PM]  
** Don’t tell Yamaguchi.

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:50PM]  
** Your secret is safe with me.

 

There was no reply for several minutes. Yachi was probably tearing her hair out and trying to rank her friends in terms of their ability and feeling guilty for having to rank them. Tsukishima resolved to buy even more fugashi for putting her under this stress in the first place. 

 

 **[Yachi Hitoka 6:53PM]  
** It has to be Kozume Kenma then. I shared a few classes at uni with him, so I know his abilities firsthand!

 **[Yachi Hitoka 6:53PM]  
** You owe me fugashi.

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:53PM]  
** I won’t forget.

 

Tsukishima clicked back to Kozume Kenma’s résumé and scanned the finer details. The man was a lead developer and animator for a company called Neko+Ma and had been working there for a number of years.

Neko+Ma sounded familiar. Tsukishima tapped his finger on the trackpad; he probably heard it when Yamaguchi raved about one game or another that was coming out in whichever season.

“Oi, Yamaguchi! Come here a sec!”

A clattering came from the kitchen, and a then a soft curse. “Can’t it wait?”

“It’s important!”

Yamaguchi appeared in the doorway of the living room looking mildly harassed. There was a ladle in one hand, a pepper grinder in the other and a dab of red sauce on his cheek. His eyes zeroed in on Tsukishima, who still hadn’t moved from the floor, and demanded, “What is so important you had to call me away? Can’t you see I’m trying to cook dinner like a good housewife? Do you know how hard it is to make pumpkin soup and lasagne, especially since they’re foreign foods I’ve never made before? I’m trying to read the damned recipe in English and I’m pretty sure I’ve already stuffed up twice.”

“No you didn’t,” Tsukishima said. If there was one thing Yamaguchi could do no wrong in, it was anything involving the kitchen and its wonders. Yamaguchi had always been a natural when it came to cooking and he moved from bench to stove fluidly like it was his element. Tsukishima wished he too had the talent to make seven different types of cuisine in a week without disastrous results but it wasn’t meant to be. “Even if you stuffed up I’d still eat it anyway.”

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi widened his eyes and held the ladle to his chest in mock surprise. “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Tsukishima tried not to gag. He failed.

Yamaguchi rested his hands on his hips and gave a roll of his eyes. “If you weren’t going to sweep me off my feet with sweet nothings then what did you call me in here for?”

Tsukishima pointed down to his screen, not that Yamaguchi could read the email from this distance. “Have you ever heard of a gaming company called Neko+Ma?”

“Really?” Yamaguchi looked up to the roof as though he was uttering a quick prayer to the heavens to lend him strength. “You interrupted my cooking to ask about games? And those types of games of all things?”

“Are they that bad?”

“No, they’re wonderful.”

“I think I sense a little bit of sarcasm.”

“Actually, I’m being one hundred percent serious. I must ask though, why you’re looking up these sorts of games. Should I be giving you Sex Talk Part 2?”

“No thank you.” A shudder ran down Tsukishima’s body as war flashbacks of Sex Talk Part 1 flared through his mind. “I’m just curious.”

“Virgin curiosity is a natural thing but I don’t recommend using those games as instructional manuals for sex.”

“Three things. One, I’m not a virgin. Two, I hope you choke on a dick. And three, why are you talking about sex when I’m trying to ask you about Neko+Ma?”

Yamaguchi gave him a funny look. “Because those two are one and the same?”

“What?”

“Neko+Ma,” Yamaguchi clarified. “Their games are praised for their intrinsic plots, well-developed characters and absolutely batshit insane endings.”

“Batshit insane endings,” Tsukishima repeated. “I don't get it.”

“Like…” Yamaguchi waved the pepper grinder at him. “In one of the games I played, the protagonist’s lover cut off his legs so he couldn’t run to another man, his arms so he couldn’t hold another man, his tongue so he couldn’t talk to another man, his eyes so he couldn’t look at another man. It was very graphic. All of Neko+Ma’s games are rated R+ so that gives you a pretty good idea of their usual work.”

What kind of a person comes up with stuff like that, Tsukishima wondered.

“I’m no stranger to games which are a bit more out there, but Neko+Ma _really_ likes to push boundaries,” Yamaguchi said. “They showed the entire process, you know? And when the protagonist was just a head and torso, they showed them doing… the do… let’s just say it was a very emotional scene and not in a happy ending kind of way. I cried for ten minutes straight.”

“Only ten minutes?”

“It was getting late and I had to start dinner, all right,” Yamaguchi said defensively.

“Wait, was that the day I came home to you making omurice and you were sobbing into the eggs?”

“We don’t talk about that.”

“Of course not,” Tsukishima snickered. He’d asked if something was the matter but hadn’t been able to get any kind of response other than a loud wail. He’d put it down to two possible things: Yamaguchi was depressed over work, or Yamaguchi was depressed over Yachi. Who knew there had been a third option?

“Anyway, Neko+Ma is something else. The co-founders are well-known opportunists,” Yamaguchi said. “There was a gaping hole in the market because so few games are aimed at young adult females, so they created their own games to fill that niche. Their entire brand is doing what everyone else doesn’t.”

“Chopping up gay men?”

“Yeah, that’s about it.”

“Good Lord.”

“You can’t fault their storytelling or character development though.”

Tsukishima stared down at Kozume Kenma’s résumé. He double checked the text and there was no error—he had the right name and the right company. Why would someone like Kozume Kenma who created R+ games aimed at young adult females be interested in creating an evolution game aimed at schoolchildren?

“What’s wrong?” Yamaguchi came closer and looked at the laptop upside down. He squinted at the text and when he made sense of the message, his eyebrows rose in shock. “Am I reading this right?”

“Either a developer at Neko+Ma is interested in my game or we both need to book an appointment with the optometrist.”

“That’s not a bad idea. I don’t even remember the last time we went. But more importantly,” Yamaguchi waved both the ladle and the pepper grinder around, “that résumé says Kozume Kenma is still ‘present’ at Neko+Ma so why is he picking up side projects? The only reason I can think of is him wanting to diversify his portfolio but I don’t think your game will do much for it. No offence.”

“None taken.” Tsukishima’s thoughts were running along the same lines and it was reassuring to know he wasn’t alone with his doubts.

“Aren’t there any other developers you could look up?” Yamaguchi suggested.

“Yachi recommended this guy. Apparently they used to have classes together.”

“Does Yachi know about these games?” Yamaguchi wondered. “I’d think the content would give her a heart attack.”

Yachi was definitely too innocent to know about games like that. Perhaps Kozume Kenma didn’t divulge the details of his projects and it wasn’t in Yachi’s nature to pry. That was the only explanation Tsukishima could think of that explained why Yachi would make this recommendation.

“You know, it could work,” Tsukishima slowly said. “I might actually contact this guy.”

“A developer from a company which creates games notorious for sex and violence is volunteering to make a kiddy science game for you. How exactly does that not ring a thousand alarm bells in your head?”

“I highly doubt he’ll put sex and violence into a game about evolution,” Tsukishima snorted.

“I’m pretty sure evolution is all about sex and violence, Mr Valedictorian,” Yamaguchi said.

“Shut up,” Tsukishima said, feeling the tips of his ears starting to burn. “Anyway, if this is Neko+Ma’s first venture into a different demographic then they’re going to need a leg up. I can provide that for a price. It’s a win-win situation.”

He pulled the laptop closer and tapped out a new email to Kozume Kenma, asking to arrange a meeting and received a reply almost immediately.

 

 **From:** Kozume Kenma  
**Re:** Prefectural Museum game

 Hi Tsukishima,

Thank you for responding. Is tomorrow 2PM okay?

Kozume Kenma  
Neko+Ma

 

Yamaguchi shook his head. “You’ve been in the working life too long. It’s not all about the money, Tsukki.”

“Tell that to my bosses.”

“Well, in the end it’s your decision. I just hope you don’t regret it.” Yamaguchi turned back to the kitchen to continue his cooking adventures in English.

Tsukishima sent an affirmative reply to Kozume Kenma and stretched out against the couch. He hadn’t felt this satisfied in quite a while, and for the first time he could take the evening off knowing there was nothing urgent to attend to. It felt like he made a good decision, and he was sure he wouldn’t regret it at all.

 

.

 

Neko+Ma headquarters was located in the wealthier side of city, sitting amongst dozens of stores selling expensive suits and shoes. Tsukishima had done some research on the company and knew it was rather big, but he hadn’t comprehended exactly how big the company was. Now that he was standing in front of the skyscraper and had the chance to think about it, he realised just how much he’d underestimated it—what kind of company needed an entire skyscraper?

Then again, Neko+Ma wasn’t the average company. A quick Google session last night told him that the company was created when its co-founders were still in university not too many years ago, so it was still considered fairly young compared to other companies in the same business.

Neko+Ma not only developed and produced their own games, they also animated their own shows based on said games. Apparently, other animation companies had offered to buy rights but refused to animate the graphic scenes; they wanted to appeal to a wider audience and rake in the money. Neko+Ma’s co-founders bluntly rejected all offers because they wanted to remain loyal to the original material and to their fans. They ended up filling in that particular hole in the market and it wasn’t too long after that that they began churning out merchandise as well.

Neko+Ma interacted with their fans a lot more than any other company he’d seen. They held their own accounts in all forms of social media and constantly posted game sneak-peeks and employee pranks (whether they were successful or not), as well as holding competitions for the chance to contribute to character design. What surprised Tsukishima most though, was the fact that Neko+Ma offered people the chance to intern at their company in different areas such as animation, writing and accounting; they even had ex-interns in their employ.

If there was one thing Tsukishima had to praise Neko+Ma for, it was that they knew how to draw all sorts of people in and keep them hooked. No wonder they were worth millions.

That was a lot more money than Tsukishima was comfortable with, and he felt distinctly out of place standing in the middle of the street while businessmen and businesswomen, in their tailored suits and polished shoes, swanned past him. Some of them spared him a glance but dismissed him as soon as they saw his no-brand clothes. Tsukishima rolled his eyes and entered the Neko+Ma building where the employees were hopefully a lot less pretentious than their neighbours.

When Tsukishima stepped into the building, he thought he’d stepped into a hotel for a second. White and grey marble tiles shone like no-one had ever dared track dirt upon them. A glass staircase with matching banisters spiralled upwards on his left, not a fingerprint nor a smudge on any of its surfaces. The real kicker though, was the chandelier hanging from the ceiling above the reception, sparkling like a thousand gathered dewdrops in the sunlight.

_What kind of company…_

Perhaps Tsukishima was wrong. Perhaps Neko+Ma was actually more pretentious than the entire block put together and everything he’d seen on their social media was nothing more than a farce.

There was no point brooding over it. Intending to get this over and done with, Tsukishima identified himself to the receptionist and waited as she made a call. Within minutes, a shorter male with his hair tied back in a ponytail came down the stairs. He slowed down at the last few steps and his large, golden eyes found Tsukishima’s.

“You’re Tsukishima Kei?”

The words were spoken softly, almost in a drawl, and Tsukishima shifted with unease as those eyes flicked him up and down. This staring was different to the people outside; this staring was far more analytical and penetrative. Tsukishima didn’t know why the man was examining him like a scientist to a specimen, but he didn’t want to point it out with his usual lack of tact so he gave a shallow bow in hopes of distracting him.

“You must be Kozume Kenma. It’s nice to meet you.”

The developer’s crisp look softened and he gave a small smile when he returned the bow. “Just Kozume is fine. We can talk in a meeting room upstairs.”

Tsukishima followed him up the stairs and through the building. Since it was primarily an office space, Tsukishima expected to see employees hunched over in small cubicles and looking pale under harsh lights but that wasn’t the case at all. No, the people in the office were chatting and laughing over huge desks evenly spaced out around the floor. Natural lighting filtered through the windows and in one corner Tsukishima spotted heaps of beanbags surrounding a low coffee table and a widescreen TV on the wall.

“Nice place,” Tsukishima said. “The chandelier’s a… nice touch.”

Kozume wrinkled his nose in distaste as he continued up the stairs to the third floor. “It’s gaudy,” he said. “We hate it but our bosses adore it. Some employees paid an intern to throw it out once. He got caught trying to unscrew it and nearly fell off the ladder.”

“Oh,” Tsukishima said in surprise. He’d naïvely assumed everyone in the building fancied the twinkling abomination and didn’t expect that response in the slightest.

“It _is_ a nice place though,” Kozume slowly said as though he hadn’t put too much thought into it before. “Our bosses readily accept feedback. They make changes accordingly: the desks, the beanbags, the TV… but they won’t compromise on the chandelier.”

 He led them into a large meeting room. There was a screen on the front wall and the tables were arranged around it in a U-shape. They didn’t take a seat there though; they moved to the back corner of the room where two sofas sat aside a small glass table.

“Yachi spoke highly of you,” Tsukishima said as he took a seat and was nearly swallowed by the cushions. He tried to look like he was being attentive but that was difficult when he was shuffling around and trying not to sink farther down. “You went to university together, right?”

“We had Introduction to Graphic Design together.” Unlike Tsukishima, Kozumehad no qualms when it came to looking attentive—he let the sofa swallow him up and his golden eyes fell to half-mast in comfort. “We worked together on a few projects. And stayed in touch after graduation. What about you?”

“We were in the same year at the same high school,” Tsukishima said. “We didn’t have any classes together but we were in the same club, and in third year we formed a study group with a couple of other people.”

Kozume hummed. “She was always studious.”

“Yachi hasn’t changed much, still as hardworking as ever. She got back to me unbelievably fast when I asked if she knew any developers,” Tsukishima said, steering the conversation back to the purpose of their meeting. “She was impressed by the creativity you exhibited in your works during university, and recommended you above all others. That’s pretty high praise.”

“That was a while ago.” Kozume slowly opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling in deep thought. “My creative well’s run dry. I’ve been doing the same thing for too long. I need to push myself out of my comfort zone to fill the well again.”

“That makes sense,” Tsukishima dug into his bag and pulled out a manila folder, handing it to the developer, “though I would have thought taking on other projects would cause contractual problems.”

Kozume shook his head, strands of his fringe falling into his face. “Neko+Ma is in the same state as I am. If you break each of our games down, they’re basically the same. Angsty male protagonist with a dark past revealed as each of his love interests unravel him. The childhood best friend who has always been by his side. The edgy bad boy who breaks all the rules for a good cause. The goody two shoes with a hidden personality capable of murder. It’s getting dry and it’s showing in sales. Not a huge dip, but enough to concern us. The only way to break out of this rut is to try something new. Maybe it’ll inspire something more interesting in our games.”

“But evolution? In education?”

Kozume shrugged. “We have nothing to lose. It’s not profitable money-wise but there are benefits in terms of professional development. My bosses understand the need. What I’m interested in is what your curator had to say. Isn’t she opposed to creating an association with a company that produces gay porn games?”

“Uh.” Tsukishima cringed as he thought back to the strained conversation he had earlier this morning. Yui had grilled him about this gaming company and his reasons for choosing it. He tried to answer as honestly as possible without being explicit, and focused his speech on the fact that they were creating networks with people outside of the education and research sector which could only be a good thing. The fact that they’d be saving money was also a bonus. “I did talk to her about it. Not in such blunt terms but she got the general gist of it.”

“She’s okay with it? So everything’s good on your side?”

“Yes.” Tsukishima gave a firm nod. There were no downsides to this situation that he could see. Sure, Yamaguchi had been concerned about the quality of the work but Tsukishima had seen screenshots of Neko+Ma’s games and there was no reason to believe they’d put anything less than their best efforts into his project.

The discussion fell into the specifics, starting with how Tsukishima imagined the game overall. He gave a quick outline detailing how the purpose of this game was to allow students to interact with the world and dig up fossils in differing layers to indicate their position in the geological timescale. Once the terms started getting technical, Kozume's eyes started to glaze over and, not wanting to ramble on, Tsukishima wrapped up his spiel to let Kozume say his bit.

Kozume's explanation of the entire animation process was almost just as difficult to comprehend. It sounded simple in theory but there were so many aspects incorporated into it such as: character design (“I don’t need _all_ the dinosaurs that ever existed.”), the type of animation (“3D is how much extra? Nevermind, 2D is fine.”) and audio (“Yes, your intern can screech into a microphone, I don’t mind.”).

Once they cleared up their expectations from each other, they pulled out their planners and set up a rough timeline for meetings. Tsukishima wanted the earliest version to be finished and ready for trialling by the end of six months, which was arguably not a lot of time. He’d put that deadline in thinking of using one of the museum animators but now that it was a different person, he wasn’t sure if it was feasible.

Kozume tapped his pen against his chin and absentmindedly chewed on his lip. “It’s possible,” he said at last, “if I had some help. My intern is still studying, but he’s eager to learn and willing to try. If that’s okay with you, we could likely finish in six months.”

“Of course,” Tsukishima said, wondering what kind of intern Kozume had taken to mentoring. The developer was such a reserved person that he could only imagine someone of a similar disposition working with him.

They agreed to meet once a fortnight for progress checks, which seemed slightly excessive but upon deeper thought it sounded like a good idea. If anything were to go wrong, it would be picked up that much faster and corrected before causing an even bigger nightmare. Once things were rolling smoothly, then they could start emailing or Skyping instead.

“We covered a lot today. I’m impressed.” Kozume pushed back a few strands of hair which had escaped its ponytail. “Your extensive knowledge will be invaluable. It’ll make things easier for me and my intern, so thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you,” Tsukishima said, collecting his papers and packing them back in his bag, “for expressing interest in this project and starting work on such short notice. I appreciate how much effort you’re putting in.”

The two of them left the meeting room and wandered down the stairs, making short but comfortable conversation. It was only their first meeting but Tsukishima felt like he had a good grasp of Kozume's character; the developer was organised and precise and, despite his staccato sentences, communicated very well. It felt like the game could not have been placed in better hands.

Kozume checked his phone and heaved a sigh. It had been set to silent but the screen flashed, indicating that someone was calling. He ended the call with a flick of his thumb and shoved it back into his pocket.

“Is everything all right?” Tsukishima curiously asked.

“It’s one of my bosses, Kuroo,” Kozume said with a shake of his head. “It’s not important. It never is.”

“Oh. Well.” Tsukishima supposed Kozume must be on friendly terms with his boss if he was allowed to brush off communication like that so easily. He couldn’t imagine doing the same thing to Yui because she would no doubt blast him for insubordination and roster him to work with snotty five year olds for a month.

“He’s looking for me. You should get out of here before he comes.”

“Ah, sure.” Tsukishima blinked at the abrupt dismissal but it wasn’t his place to say anything so he didn’t question it. “In that case, thank you again for meeting with me. I hope I’ll have a chance to meet your intern next time so I can thank him too. I’ll see you in a—”

“Oi, Kenma!”

Half the people in the vicinity turned around to source the disturbance, then turned back and continued about their business. Tsukishima was not one of those people. He could not turn around. He physically could not turn around. That voice was deep and sensuous and, worst of all, familiar.

_Oh no._

The tall and heavyset man shouldered his way into their conversation, too focused on his employee to notice Tsukishima beginning to freak out beside him. Tsukishima clapped a shaking hand over his mouth, his breath coming in short stutters like a noose was wrapped around his neck.

“Jeez, Kenma. Did you have to ignore me all afternoon? I told you to message me when the education officer arrived.”

“You’re bothersome,” Kozume flatly said. “I told you your presence was unnecessary.”

“I might not be doing the same work you are but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t have introduced myself. It’s not every day we branch out into a new sector and bring in new audiences. Shame on you.”

Kozume shrugged, not a trace of guilt on his face.

Kuroo clucked his tongue, then turned and directed a bright smile to Tsukishima, who was still unable to move from his spot. “My apologies for that. Kenma’s asocial even towards his oldest friend. I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, one of the co-foun…”

The words trailed off and came to a complete halt. The sequence of emotions flashing through those wide brown eyes was an entire movie within the span of a few seconds.

Confusion.

Recognition.

Shock.

“Oh my god.” Kuroo’s jaw fell open. “Firefly?”

_Fuck._

Tsukishima’s former stage name wrenched his legs back into action. He staggered backwards to create distance and recover a semblance of control. His tongue was not so kind.

“You—why are you—how can you—”

“Tsukishima.” Kozume gently pushed the gaping Kuroo back and stood between the two of them, a barrier, holding his hands out in a gesture meant to calm him down. “I know this is sudden. I didn’t want you finding out this way—”

“You knew?” Tsukishima clutched his bag so tightly his knuckles turned deathly white. His mind reeled, connecting the dots faster than it ever had. Kozume knew who he was and what he used to do the second he came down those stairs. What if there had been others? There had been so many at the strip club for the company party, and he could have walked past any of them just then. “Shit, shit!”

“Tsukishima, wait, please, it’s not—”

“I have to go,” Tsukishima blurted out, avoiding eye contact with both of them and stumbling backwards towards the exit. “I’m sorry, I—I have to go. I’ll contact you later. Bye.”

He sprinted out of the building, ignoring the shouts behind him. The soles of his shoes hit pavement so hard it rattled his heart around his chest, and his breaths rasped out sharp and painful like the noose around his neck had cinched in one notch tighter.

 

.

 

The familiarity that enveloped Tsukishima when he slammed the front door behind him overwhelmed him with relief. His shabby apartment was a haven that dimmed the ruckus in his mind and allowed white noise to permeate it instead: pots and pans clanging in the kitchen, muted voices from the radio on the countertop, and Yamaguchi’s slightly off-key singing.

A giant pot filled to the brim with curry simmered on the stove and the smell of spices hung thick in the air. Yamaguchi swayed around the island in time to the music with a ladle in one hand and a salt shaker in the other, and when he spotted Tsukishima standing in the doorway he plonked the salt down on the counter in surprise.

“You’re home early. Good! We’re having curry tonight.” Yamaguchi made a show of presenting the pot on the stove and gave a grin. “I know what you’re going to say, that curry isn’t summer food but you know what? We both know you’re wrong because curry means hot, hot means sweat, and sweat means cooling down.”

“That’s a load of rubbish,” Tsukishima muttered, grateful for the distraction. He grabbed a mug of water. Running in this weather hadn’t been one of his smarter ideas but he hadn’t had all his faculties about him at the time. After he gulped down a litre to slake his thirst, he set the mug down and buried his face in his hands with a groan.

He’d known from the beginning that there would always be a chance people would looked down on him. There were so many who passed through the strip club and he had serviced everyone from the mainstream to the wealthy in his three years dancing. It had been a risk he’d considered but he convinced himself it was no big deal—stigma was attached to sex work like a leech, and there would always be assholes who scorned him but they were meaningless faces who didn’t rate a second thought.

This though, was more than condescending looks and patronising words. It had never crossed his mind that employers could find out through sheer chance—of course not, he had been eighteen and desperate at the time. But that was no excuse; what if Michimiya found out and saw nothing but shame attached to his past? It wasn’t like his previous occupation made him a paedophile but she could question his morals and it wouldn’t look good. He was an education officer who fucking worked with children! What if she couldn’t risk the backlash and fired him?

“Tsukki?”

Warm, damp fingers enclosed his own and tugged them from his face. Tsukishima brought his bleary eyes up to meet Yamaguchi’s concerned ones and he heaved a sigh. Where should he even start?

Yamaguchi, understanding without words as always, picked up a wet dishtowel and dabbed the salt and sweat from his forehead and cheeks. “What happened?”

Tsukishima squeezed his eyes shut again, wanting desperately to block the memory out but the darkness pulled it forth instead. He would see it every time he closed his eyes: twin expressions of shock, horror and even a dash of pity. It was awful, and he could barely bring himself to say it. “Bedhead.”

Not understanding at all, Yamaguchi put a hand to his cowlick. He was self-conscious about his hair, and never took the teasing lightly. “It’s not that bad,” he muttered, trying to smooth it down without success and then shooting a dark look at his friend. “And we’re talking about you, not me.”

Tsukishima shook his head mutely and struggled to choose his words. He needed to explain it in a way that wouldn’t freak Yamaguchi out. One of them needed to keep a clear head. “No, I… the meeting today. Neko+Ma. The co-founder, he’s an ex-client. Bedhead.”

Yamaguchi gasped, hands flying up to cover his mouth as the ramifications of the discovery dawned on him. “Oh no,” he breathed.

It was frustrating that every precaution had been for nothing. _Do not reveal personal details. Do not ask for personal details._ It didn’t matter that Tsukishima had taken those rules to heart and followed them down to the letter, believing they would keep his identity and his person safe. What use were they when he was out in the real world and his face was bared for all to see?

“Oh yes, unfortunately,” Tsukishima said, pulling off his glasses and grinding the palm of his hand into his eyes. “He knows my name, he knows where I work and he knows what I do. Even worse, he knows what I _did_. He’s either going to out me or blackmail me and I’ll end up working a dead end job with a dead end salary for the rest of my dead end life.”

“I…” Yamaguchi opened and closed his mouth several times trying to come up with something reassuring to say. The fact that it took him several seconds to even stammer random noises out was not reassuring at all. “Um… uh… this is…”

“I’m doomed,” Tsukishima flatly said. No point beating around the bush.

“No, no.” Yamaguchi flapped the dishtowel in his hands like it was conducive to his thought process. Perhaps it was, because he then blurted out, “Why would Bedhead blackmail you? He’s already well-off.”

“For sex, I don’t know! He always asked me out when I danced for him and if he’s anything like he used to be then I’m never going to have another moment’s peace again.” Tsukishima set his glasses back on his nose and a shudder rippled down his body. “I can’t do this. It’s too… I need to message Kozume and tell him the project’s off. I’ll find someone else.”

“Wait!” Yamaguchi lunged and caught his wrist before he could grab his phone. His fingers felt like vices and they grappled for control, neither willing to give in. “Just wait a second, Tsukki. We should rationalise this out. You might be, uh, overreacting a little bit.”

“Overreacting?” Tsukishima echoed and yanked his wrists free, shaking them out with a thunderous scowl. “Were you listening to a word I said because I’m pretty sure I said I’m about to outed as a stripper!”

“Ex-stripper,” Yamaguchi corrected. “And I don’t think Bedhead will do that to you.”

Tsukishima found that hard to believe, but Yamaguchi’s lips were pressed together like he knew something important that needed to be heard and understood. Years of friendship told him his friend might have words of hope in store so he gestured for him to go on.

“Bedhead was your regular, and one of the better ones too, if I’m remembering right. He abided by all the rules, and he tipped you quite generously too.”

“He… paid enough to cover our bills once.”

“See?” Yamaguchi brightly pointed out. “That’s a polite and civil relationship right there.”

Tsukishima snorted. _Polite_ and _civil_ were words for acquaintances who bade each other hello and goodbye in the rare instances they happened to run into each other. The words he was thinking of were far more charged. Like _mutually_ _beneficial_ and _sexual tension hot enough to singe_.

“Okay, maybe there was a bit more to it than that. The guy was kinda crushing on you. But if he’s still hanging onto those feelings then I don’t think he’d jeopardise that. And if he’s not, then do you really think he’s the type of person to act so maliciously?” Yamaguchi reasoned.

It was hard to imagine ill intentions from any of his previous clients, even more so from Bedhead—he’d been decent to all the staff, never started anything that would disrupt business and he kept his hands to himself. But then again, how well did Tsukishima truly know Bedhead’s true nature? It wasn’t like shaking his ass in someone’s face helped get to know them better.

“Don’t overthink things,” Yamaguchi softly said. “Sometimes, things are just as they are.”

Maybe the shock was spiking his paranoia up to unhealthy levels. Tsukishima took a deep, calming breath and scrubbed his face to clear out all the negative thoughts. When he could think clearly again, he slumped over with a sigh.

“Okay,” he said. “I might be overreacting a little bit.”

“You tend to do that.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“What, no, it’s different. I overreact because it’s in my nature. You overreact because you try to predict other people and panic when you can’t.”

Tsukishima couldn’t even deny it.

“You need to communicate.” Yamaguchi patted Tsukishima arm and picked up the ladle again. “So make sure you tell Bedhead exactly what you expect. This project’s important to you and you’re not going to mess it up by running away like a wuss.”

“Yeah.” Tsukishima nodded. This was going to test him, but he was going to stand with his shoulders straight and demand silence on the matter. It was good manners not to reveal other people’s secrets and if Kuroo couldn’t afford him that, then that was the last he’d deal with the company. “Yeah, I can do that.”

 

.

 

A long, cold shower helped Tsukishima clear his head and plan his next steps. First he’d have to apologise for running away, and then he’d have to ask them to forgive his rudeness and continue developing the game. His words didn’t sound quite so convincing in his head, and he hoped they translated better when he attempted to make the calls.

There were two new text threads and an email on his phone when he checked them. He clicked on the email first; it was Yui, checking up on him since he hadn’t returned to the office. She asked how the meeting with the developer went and whether they were good for the project.

At this point in time, Tsukishima couldn’t give a sure answer. He didn’t want to deliver false promises so he fired back a quick email saying Neko+Ma was still deliberating and would get back to him soon. He felt guilty for lying, but it was kind of true.

He then checked his texts. The first was from Kozume.

 

 **[Kozume Kenma 4:24PM]**  
I’m truly sorry about what happened earlier.

 **[Kozume Kenma 4:24PM]**  
I knew who you were when I saw you at reception but didn’t say anything because I didn’t think it was relevant.

 **[Kozume Kenma 4:26PM]**  
That was obviously not my call and if I had acted more responsibly then we could have avoided that fiasco.

 **[Kozume Kenma 4:32PM]**  
I understand if you choose to drop the project.

 

Tsukishima hadn’t realised Kozume would blame himself for what happened. There was no point, really, seeing as Kozume had tried to shield him from a disaster no-one could have predicted. He did appreciate the sentiment though.

 

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:33PM]**  
Thank you for your concern. I appreciate what you did for me, and I’d like to continue working the project with you.

 

The second string of texts was from an unknown number.

 

 **[Unknown 4:27PM]**  
Tsukishima can we talk

 **[Unknown 4:30PM]**  
I’m so sorry for spooking you earlier

 **[Unknown 4:32PM]**  
Please message me when you see this

 **[Unknown 4:38PM]**  
This is Kuroo by the way

 

Tsukishima’s thumbs danced over the keypad. He’d planned a whole conversation but now the words fell out of his brain and he had no idea what he wanted to say. He was tempted to delete the thread and pretend he never saw it but his resolution resounded in his head and so he forced himself to type a generic response.

 

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:39PM]**  
Thank you for your concern but I’m fine. I have no intentions of dropping the project so there’s nothing to worry about.

 

A reply came immediately.

 

 **[Unknown 6:40PM]**  
I’m not worried about the game, I’m worried about you.

 

What reason was there for this man to be concerned? Sure, they had known each other a fair amount of time but only in one context. They made no contact outside of the club, despite Kuroo’s invitations, so their relationship could only be described as all business and zero personal.

No, there was no good reason for him to be concerned.

 

 **[Unknown 6:42PM]**  
Can I call you

 

Tsukishima cringed. Talking on the phone was one of his worst nightmares because the other party could hear every inflection and hesitation in his voice while he floundered to get a read on them. Texting was a much safer option.

 

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:42PM]**  
I’d rather text. Is something wrong?

 **[Unknown 6:43PM]**  
No that’s fine. I just want to tell you that I’m not going to say anything about your past to anyone

 **[Unknown 6:43PM]**  
It’s not my place and it’d be totally unprofessional

 

Huh.

This was unexpected. Tsukishima thought he’d be the one to start this conversation and he’d have to plead for silence.

Apparently not.

 

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:46PM]**  
I want this professionalism to extend outside of this partnership.

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:47PM]**  
There may be instances of work functions and if that’s the case I don’t want to talk about my dancing.

 **[Unknown 6:48PM]**  
That’s fair

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:48PM]**  
Thank you.

 **[Unknown 6:48PM]**  
It’s not worth thanking when it’s basic human decency

 **[Unknown 6:49PM]**  
Night Tsukishima

 

Tsukishima exhaled noisily through his mouth. Kuroo’s straightforwardness made the exchange go a lot smoother than the awkward disaster he’d imagined, and he was immensely grateful for that.

He saved Kuroo’s number and tossed the phone onto his nightstand.

 

.

 

The next day at work, Tsukishima knocked on the door labelled ‘Curator—Michimiya Yui’ and poked his head in without waiting for an answer. Michimiya sat behind her desktop, fringe clipped back with plastic stars, and a stack of paperwork by her elbow.

“Oh, Tsukishima.” She rubbed her bloodshot eyes and concealed a yawn behind her hand. “Did you end up finding those kids?”

A group of one hundred middle school students had toured the museum and when it came time for them to return to school, their teachers discovered five of them were missing. Thus ensued a frantic search by all staff, and the kids had been found on the outside grounds flicking water from the fountain on the cockatoos because they thought the birds were dying from heatstroke.

“They were at the aviary,” Tsukishima said. “The teachers spent a fair bit of time yelling about detentions for the rest of the year but they’ve all left now so that’s one load off our plates. Do you need me for anything else? If not, I’m about to head off to Neko+Ma for another meeting.”

“Another one?” Michimiya squinted at her calendar hanging on the wall. “Didn’t you have one yesterday?”

“Yeah, but the developer messaged me this morning saying one of his team members wanted to try and add something to the game so I’m going down there to discuss it.”

“Hmm.” Michimiya tapped her fingernails against the keyboard. “You don’t think that’s crossing a line? Adding another element to the game could extend the project’s timeline.”

“I don’t think so.” That thought had occurred to Tsukishima as well, but he’d dismissed almost immediately simply because Kozume seemed too forthright of a person to attempt that kind of underhandedness. “If it adds to the game then all the better, and if it doesn’t then it doesn’t hurt to listen. Is there something in particular you’re worried about?”

“Nah.” Michimiya shook her head, short brown hair flying all over the place. “I trust you to do your job.”

Tsukishima gave her a brief smile. He rarely enjoyed working with others because they tended to hover over his shoulder and aggravate his stress levels, so it was a real blessing when he earned Michimiya’s trust and she allowed him greater rein in his work.

“Get to your meeting,” Michimiya told him, jerking her thumb at the clock which just ticked past one-thirty. “Wouldn’t want to make a bad impression.”

“Of course,” Tsukishima said, though he thought no impression could be worse than yesterday’s. “I’m off then.”

He left her to her work and grabbed his bag, swinging it over his shoulder and ignoring thoughts of the creamy egg sandwich in there. His stomach gnawed at him with hunger pangs but he couldn’t appease it; the search for the kids had run through his lunch break and if he stopped then he’d be late for the Neko+Ma meeting.

He hoped it wouldn’t run too long or he might just faint from hunger.

 

.

 

The man that came up with another element to add to the game was Yaku Morisuke. He was a writer on Kozume’s team who, upon reading the proposal, said that the game needed some direction to guide students in their exploration of the world and its history.

“If they’re wandering around the world willy-nilly then they might miss something important. If we incorporate a plot into the game and make it more interactive by giving them choices, then the students would be engaged in active learning,” Yaku said. “Think Carmen Sandiego but with dinosaurs.”

It was fantastic. The incorporation of a plot meant students would not only have their understanding scaffolded but it would also improve various skills as well. There would be language, history, geography and science integrated into the game so it meshed with more parts of the curriculum and schools would be more willing to trial it. But the reality of it was not so simple.

“It’s a good idea.” Tsukishima chose his words carefully, wanting the writer to understand that he thought highly of this addition but still had reservations. “But creating a storyline, characters, backstories and all that would set the deadline back a fair amount of time and that concerns me.”

“That’s not an issue.” Kuroo spoke up from his right. “We’re used to working on tight schedules and beating deadlines.”

Tsukishima had no idea why Kuroo was present at this meeting. The four of them were seated in the meeting room again, this time at the tables because the sofa was inconvenient for four people. Kozume and Yaku sat on one side, Kuroo and Tsukishima on the other. So far, the only people who contributed anything meaningful to the discussion were Kozume and Yaku. It was almost like Kuroo was just there to laze around and look good, though it appeared like that was about to change.

“Yaku will write up a plot sequence with characters in three days and if you’re satisfied with it then he can flesh it out further. Won’t you, Yaku?” Kuroo addressed.

Yaku nodded eagerly. “We won’t need to extend the deadline at all. I work fast, and that’s a promise.”

“That sounds… fine. I guess. But don’t you need the story before you start everything else?” Tsukishima asked, puzzled.

“Kind of, not really.” Kozume shrugged. “I don’t need any of that to design backgrounds. Once Yaku has things figured out, we can work in tandem from there. He’ll write a scene and I’ll animate it. That’s how we usually work anyway.”

It sounded like a potential disaster, given how much time they could lose if any of them decided to scrap a scene but Tsukishima didn’t want to overstep and voice this as he had no right to tell the company how to do their jobs.

“Don’t look so worried.” Kuroo gave him a light nudge with his elbow, startling him. “Kenma and Yaku know what they’re doing.”

“I’m not worried,” Tsukishima said, moving his arm away slightly. Though he’d been assured his secret was safe, his instincts still warned him to stay aware and alert. “They seem competent. The whole company does.”

“Yes they do,” Kuroo smugly said.

Tsukishima decided not to comment on Kuroo’s lack of humility in case it led to small talk—all he wanted to do was go outside, find somewhere to sit down and eat his lunch before he collapsed. He could feel himself starting to get lightheaded and the last thing he wanted was to faint and make a fool of himself.

“Now that we’re done, how about we go grab some coffee?” Kuroo stood up and stretched. His shirt strained tight over his muscles and it didn’t help that he let out a long, loud groan at the end of his sentence. It was so wildly inappropriate, and he didn’t even know it.

Tsukishima grabbed his papers and stuffed them in his bag. _Not looking, not looking._

“I’ve got work to do,” Yaku said, giving them a wave and scurrying away. “You enjoy though!”

“I have to get back to my desk.” Kozume threw Kuroo a dirty look. “The question is, why don’t you?”

“As the boss, I’m allowed to delegate tasks to other people.” Kuroo snickered at the petulant look on Kozume’s face. “If you’d gotten in on the whole co-founder thing, you’d be able to do the same. But nooo, you complained about all the paperwork and refused to join. Who’s laughing now?”

“Shut up,” Kozume grumbled.

The two of them knowing each other before the inception of Neko+Ma made a lot of sense, considering the atmosphere around them was too casual and that they acted more like long-time friends rather than a boss and his employee.

“Tsukishima, coffee?”

Tsukishima took his time zipping up his bag and hefting it onto his shoulder, mind whirring to make sense of the situation. Why did Kuroo extend the invitation to him? Was it supposed to be some kind of peace offering? Tsukishima didn’t know, but it was too much too soon and he didn’t want to dig himself further into this mess.

He pointedly kept his gaze somewhere towards the left and said with forced politeness, “Thank you for the invitation but I have to get back to the museu—”

A long, loud grumble cut him short.

Tsukishima’s cheeks flared with heat and he slapped a hand over his stomach which did nothing to smother its noise. Why did his traitorous stomach have to remind him about missing lunch in front of the one person he did not want to have anything to do with?

The corners of Kuroo’s lips twitched but to his credit it did not become a full-blown grin, though the way the light danced in his eyes was too obvious. “C’mon, let’s make it a business lunch. My treat.”

Tsukishima gripped his stomach and tried to fight the temptation. The thought of _lunch_ sent his salivary glands into overdrive and the thought of _free lunch_ dangling just out of his reach tantalised him to the point where he could see his wall of resistance crumbling before his very eyes.

It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to give in. “All right,” he sighed. “Lead the way.”

“Wait.” Kozume stopped them short with a frown. “Kuroo. Be nice.”

Kuroo spread his hands out in a gesture of offence. “What are you talking about? I’m always nice.”

Somehow, Tsukishima didn’t think that was true.

 

.

 

The two of them sitting alone in a booth was reminiscent of much seedier times. Tsukishima vividly recalled himself often straddling Kuroo’s delicious thighs, up close and personal just the way they liked it. Those were the days when Tsukishima had no qualms about sinking his claws into his clients and bleeding them for all they were worth.

Kuroo had been his most viable source of income; he dropped in several times a week and often bought entire nights so that the only man Tsukishima danced for was him. Tsukishima had wondered more than once if the man might have issues with possession but his demeanour never suggested anything sinister. Every now and then, Kuroo also dropped tips generous enough to make other dancers stare enviously. More than once they tried to lure him away with promises of _extra fun_ but damned if Tsukishima let him go. A man like Kuroo was the stuff was wet dreams: sensual, sexual and shitting gold out of his ass.

The three important S’s.

“I’ll have a coffee.”

Tsukishima’s mind snapped back to the present as Kuroo handed the waitress back the menu. “Coffee?” he repeated.

“Is something wrong with that?” Kuroo pondered, not noticing the strange look on Tsukishima’s face. “Wait, no, you’re right. It’s too hot for coffee. Better make it iced.”

The waitress scribbled in her notepad and looked at Tsukishima, pen poised to take his order.

Tsukishima tapped the edge of his menu with his index finger. Kuroo had offered to buy lunch, but that offer was hardly on the table when Kuroo only ordered a drink for himself. As much as it vexed him, social etiquette dictated he could not order something more expensive than the host. With a decisive huff, Tsukishima snapped the menu closed and held it up for the waitress. “Just a strawberry milkshake, thanks.”

“Whoa, hang on.” Kuroo’s hand darted out to stop the waitress from taking the menu. “I thought you were hungry.”

“Actually, you assumed I was hungry,” Tsukishima corrected. He didn’t want to lie, but he didn’t want to tell the truth either. It was better to skirt the issues of manners and money, and keep their relations amicable. “A growling stomach isn’t always a hungry stomach.”

“No wonder you work with kids,” Kuroo muttered.

“I’m sorry?”

“We’ll take two chicken burger meals as well,” Kuroo said to the waitress and shooed her away before Tsukishima had a chance to amend the order.

“Hey!” Tsukishima protested.

“There’s nothing you can say to convince me that your stomach isn’t trying to digest itself right now.” Kuroo gave a lazy flick of his wrist and his gold watch caught the sunlight. How flashy. “No need to explain your reticence, but you should know better that anyone else that money isn’t an issue.”

Tsukishima bristled. The way Kuroo worded his sentence made him sound like a wretched dog that needed looking after and he was not some pathetic stray who fed on pity. “I took your money because it was my job. This is charity and _I don’t need it_.”

“You can’t let a man go hungry. There’s gotta be some kind of law again that.” Kuroo’s smile turned friendly but when Tsukishima did not let up, he dropped the positive attitude and tilted his head. “You seem uncomfortable being near me even though we agreed to be professional. Have I overstepped your boundaries somewhere along the way?”

It was maddening—Kuroo brushed up against those very boundaries but it wasn’t his fault because he was completely oblivious to the effects he had on Tsukishima. How was it possible to have so many conflicting feelings over someone he hadn’t seen for so long?

“No, it’s just me.” Tsukishima ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands a little bit. “I’m still figuring out how to deal with this. It’s… new.”

“I guess you don’t come across this situation often, huh?”

“You’re the first.” Tsukishima traced the lines on the wooden table with the tips of his fingers. He considered how much to tell the other man, and decided he didn’t have much to lose seeing as Kuroo already knew the worst of it. “My past as a stripper isn’t a secret but it’s not something I shout about for the world to hear. It’s my decision who can and cannot know, and I would rather you didn’t. Working like this, partnering up like this… there are too many risks involved.”

_You’re a risk._

The unspoken words hung heavy in the air.

They were silent for several minutes, neither feeling the need to fill the air with half-hearted attempted at conversation. Tsukishima had effectively killed the mood and he wondered if Kuroo was still feeling generous enough to pay for his meal.

“You know…” Kuroo slowly said, waiting until Tsukishima lifted his eyes to meet his own before speaking again. “It’s hard for me to understand. In fact, I don’t think it’s something I’ll ever understand because I’ve never been in a position similar to yours. But I’m being honest when I say I would never hurt you by revealing personal details about your past. As strange as you might think it, I do care about you.”

Tsukishima scoffed.

“I do, really,” Kuroo said. “I don’t expect you to trust my word right now but that’s something I want to build with you.”

“Trust,” Tsukishima flatly said. He almost pitied Kuroo for trying so hard—what was the point of putting in all this effort for someone who wouldn’t be a permanent fixture in their life? He could count the number of people he trusted with one hand and he did not intend to start using his second.

“How about this?” Kuroo leaned over the table with a wicked twinkle in his eyes. “Since I know something about you, how about I tell you something about me?”

“That’s… nice of you but I don’t really—”

“A secret for a secret. It’s good, I promise.” Kuroo cast his eyes around the café to make sure there was no-one within hearing range and dropped his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “When I was a teenager, one of my friends dared me to streak past two cops and I did it.”

He sat back triumphantly and waited for something. Shock? Horror? Praise?

All Tsukishima managed was a dumb, “Huh?”

“Yeah.” A wistful look in Kuroo’s eyes contrasted a shit-eating grin that stretched wide across his face. “As soon as the cops saw my dick swinging in the wind, they chased me all the way through town. They were persistent, gotta give them that, and because they wouldn’t let up I had to run through town starkers. You should’ve heard the screams. Some were from girls, most were from me.”

“You’re joking.”

“It was a dare and I never back down from dares.”

“Were you arrested for public indecency?” The thought of two cops wrestling down a naked Kuroo was more entertaining than it should have been, and Tsukishima hid a twitch of his lips with the palm of his hand.

“Surprisingly, no. I hid in a dumpster. Honest to god, a bloody dumpster. I’ll never forget the smell of week-old rotting salmon.” Kuroo scrunched his nose up and took a deep breath like he was trying to rid the stench from his memory. “I still can’t look at fish without heaving. Dumpster diving? I don’t recommend it. Zero out of ten. It’s disgusting.”

Tsukishima didn’t know whether to feel amusement or pity. He settled on nonchalance and said, “That’s an interesting tale. I’m sure it makes the rounds when you catch up with friends.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Especially when the pictures come in.”

“Pictures?” Tsukishima echoed.

Kuroo pulled out his phone, swiped until he found what he was looking for and held it out. “Warning: proceed with caution because, well, nudity. Gratuitous nudity.”

It was a rather blurry photo of a younger Kuroo, his hair just as dark and messy as it was today. He wore nothing on his person, and he held his eyes wide and mouth open in a terrified scream as he sped from the two officers charging at him in the background.

“I was yelling for help and all my friends did was laugh and take pictures.” Kuroo gave a resigned shake of his head. “Some friends, huh? Doesn’t matter though because I got them back ten times better. Keep going.”

Tsukishima kept swiping, flicking through pictures of unfamiliar faces in questionable situations. High school, university, the Neko+Ma office. It was like watching a montage of Kuroo growing up and every dumb thing he’d ever done, and he could feel his cheeks warming up as the pictures increased in both nudity and stupidity.

“Is that… a vat of butter?” he choked, thumb pausing over a picture of Kuroo doing a thumbs up in front of at least five kilos of butter.

“Oh, yeah.” Kuroo sounded far too pleased with himself. “One of the guys superglued animal posters all over the conference room the morning we had a meeting with our manufacturers. I had to squeeze everyone in my office instead. Unpleasant.”

“Animal posters don’t sound so bad,” Tsukishima said. In fact, it sounded downright harmless.

“The animals were mating,” Kuroo said. “Big animals. Mounted on top of each other. Elephants, rhinos, hippos. Think National Geographic: Animal Sex 101.”

“Oh.” There was only really that one word to describe it. “What did you do with the butter?”

“I covered his entire office with it,” Kuroo gleefully said. He motioned for Tsukishima to swipe again. “I got it on video. Play it, just play it, I promise it’s great.”

Dutifully, Tsukishima did as he was asked. The camera was focused on a man with a dyed mohawk, and followed him as he marched down the hall and stormed through an ornate door decorated with the nameplate _Yamamoto Taketora_.

“Wait for it,” Kuroo whispered.

An unholy screech ripped through the speakers, followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground. Kuroo cackled, both in the video and in real life, and it sounded ridiculous, like a hysterical goat so much that Tsukishima burst out laughing as well.

“Oh my god.” Tsukishima put the phone face down to cut the volume. He buried his face in his hands and his shoulders shook with the effort of holding himself together. “I can’t believe I thought you were some kind of proper businessman. You’re just as immature as the kids I teach!”

They dissolved into a fit of muffled giggles and all the while Tsukishima marvelled at how easy this could be between them. Maybe it was the café atmosphere, the smell of coffee beans lingering in the air, the sound of spoons clinking against glasses, the light streaming through the windows and lighting them up as they’d never seen each other before.

“You look different like this,” Kuroo said, mirroring his thoughts.

“Hm?”

“When you laugh. It’s carefree. Real. I haven’t seen you like that before.”

Tsukishima’s smile slipped. Just as he thought the disquiet between them was easing up, it came swinging back full force. This conversation was veering into uncharted territory and he couldn’t— _couldn’t_ get into it right now.

“Hey,” Kuroo softly said. “It’s okay.”

Tsukishima swallowed and nodded, and he looked down at his interlocked fingers. It was strangely comforting how Kuroo read the shifts in his mood like lines on his palm, and even more so that he didn’t push Tsukishima where he didn’t want to go.

The waitress arrived with their orders then, and the smell of freshly baked chicken and fries was so heavenly Tsukishima felt his salivary glands well up. He didn’t wait for his stomach to tell him to eat—he grabbed the burger as soon as it was set down and bit into it with the gusto of a starving man.

There was no conversation between bites; the food was so good it would have been a sin to slow down for small talk.

After Tsukishima made his way through the burger, polished off the fries and got started on the milkshake, he paused long enough to say, “That was the best burger I’ve had all year.”

“Should be, for what they cost,” Kuroo said, wiping crumbs off his fingers with a napkin.

Tsukishima stopped sucking on the straw. The burgers here costed twelve bucks, the chips seven and the milkshake another seven. Twenty-six bucks for one meal, fifty-two for both of them. If it had been up to him, he wouldn’t have eaten at a place so pricey but he wasn’t about to skive off if Kuroo was going to be testy about money.

“I can pay for my half,” Tsukishima said. “It’s not a big deal.”

“What? Oh no, no, no, no. I didn’t mean it like that.” Kuroo waved his napkin around frantically, almost knocking over his iced coffee. “I meant if you want a good burger then you have to pay a little bit more. I didn’t mean to say—I wouldn’t ask you to—”

“It’s fine,” Tsukishima cut in. “I get what you mean. I can always pay next time.”

It was like watching sunshine fall across Kuroo’s face, a blinding beam that he could lose himself in if he stared too hard and too long.

“Next time?” Kuroo asked hopefully.

“I…” Tsukishima hadn’t meant to insinuate another possibility for lunch, but he couldn’t find himself regretting the slip up. He had liked talking and laughing with Kuroo, and if every conversation that followed could feel just as normal then what harm could it bring? “Yes. Next time.”

Kuroo looked at his hands, barely managing to contain his grin, and that was a relief because Tsukishima’s cheeks were warming up again and he didn’t need witnesses to anymore displays of emotion.

“So… hey,” Kuroo said, shifting in his seat. “I don’t want to ruin the mood or anything. Maybe this is a bad time, I don’t know. But I think we should talk. Have a conversation.”

Shit. That didn’t sound good.

“I know we said we wouldn’t talk about it, and if you don’t want to then I won’t force the issue,” Kuroo continued. “But right now, it’s just the two of us in a little café booth and I just… I don’t want to leave things unsaid.”

“I don’t think there’s much more to say on the matter,” Tsukishima said. “Not for me, anyway. It’s not something I like to talk about outside of certain social circles.”

“That’s fair,” Kuroo assured him. “I don’t want to dig. I don’t want to do that, ever. But there’s one thing that I need to know. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But it would help me understand.”

“That depends on what it is,” Tsukishima said, his mind already flicking through various questions Kuroo might throw at him, each one more invasive than the last.

“Why did you quit the club? You left without saying goodbye and I had to hear it from the other dancers that you were gone.”

Tsukishima blinked. Saying goodbye? That was the thing that Kuroo was hung up about? That made things a bit awkward then, considering Tsukishima hadn’t even considered Kuroo when he quit—the man had been more of an afterthought, something along the lines of ‘too bad I won’t get the chance to bang him’ but it hadn’t been that much of a loss.

“I decided on a clean break when I first started, and quit as soon as I graduated from university. I didn’t think my absence would affect you, not when there were other dancers to indulge your every whimsy.”

_And take your money._

“The other strippers weren’t you,” Kuroo said. “I didn’t go back much after that.”

Tsukishima snorted. “Really? You didn’t slip one hundred dollar bills into their briefs or invite them out to one of the most expensive seafood restaurants in town?”

It happened fast, like a switched being flipped. Kuroo’s demeanour shifted into something darker as he rested his elbows on the table and leaned in closer, heavily lidded eyes weighing down his gaze.

“You were the exception.”

And here Tsukishima had thought all those offers to spend time outside the club together were just empty words. Many clients had uttered similar things and only fools thought they would follow through, not that it had ever crossed Tsukishima’s mind in the first place. He prided himself on separating his work life and his personal life and wouldn’t have crossed them for anything.

“Everyone spouted pretty words,” Tsukishima said. “You weren’t an exception.”

Kuroo threw his head back with a laugh, and put a hand over his heart in mock suffering. “Ouch! You really know how to kick a man down, don’t you?”

“I’ve had practice,” Tsukishima admitted. Sometimes when demure refusals weren’t enough, he had to resort to his lashing tongue and often took satisfaction in embarrassing the pigheaded ones.

“I guess you got a lot of propositions like that. Not surprising, given how beautiful you were. No, how beautiful you _are_.”

Tsukishima choked on his milkshake, setting it down on the table with a thump and coughing into his hand.

_What._

“What kind of game—” Tsukishima spluttered.

“It’s not a game,” Kuroo interrupted. “I’m not—that just slipped out. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

If it wasn’t a game, then maybe it was some kind of trick. Compliments never came free—people always expected something from him and usually the prices were innocuous like a name or a number, and other times the prices were higher like a hand on his ass or a one night stand. Sometimes he paid, sometimes he didn’t.

He certainly wasn’t paying now.

“I thought I made it clear,” Tsukishima said. “I’m not breaking professionalism.”

“I know,” Kuroo assured him. “That was out of line and I really am sorry.”

Despite the apology, a small part of Tsukishima’s mind niggled with doubt. Kuroo was giving in too easily to his demands and that felt off, like he was missing a vital piece of information that completed the bigger picture. Kuroo might claim his actions were basic human decency but having seen many decent human at their most basic, Tsukishima was not entirely convinced.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Kuroo said, “and I want to make it clear that I didn’t say that with any kind of intention. You’re not entirely comfortable and I swear I’m not trying to make it worse.”

“But you _meant_ it.”

“Yes?” Kuroo said, confused. “It was a compliment, a genuine one. I didn’t mean anything malicious by it. I didn’t say it on the spur of the moment either—I mean, I did, but I’d always thought that. I just never had the opportunity to say it in a non-creepy context.”

Tsukishima wrinkled his nose. “You make it sound like you fell for me, and you’d have to be pretty stupid to fall for a stripper. I’d think you of all people would know we were paid to be clingy and flirty.”

“Oh, I knew.” Kuroo gave a rueful smile and mussed the back of his head, spiking up his hair even more into that ridiculous hairdo. “I knew every night was a business transaction but I fell so hard I’m still picking up the pieces.”

Tsukishima froze, lips parted just as he was about to make a retort. Did… did Kuroo just…?

“Oh my god,” Tsukishima choked out and hid his face behind his milkshake.

“Oh my god,” Kuroo wheezed and hid his own face behind his iced coffee. “That wasn’t… I swear I didn’t mean—I did but not like that—why are you… stop, please stop…”

“You said you would say anything like that again and not a minute later, a _minute_ later—”

“I’m sorry, that just slipped out too,” Kuroo weakly said. “I have a problem with panicking in front of certain types of people and saying the first thing that comes to mind.”

“If this is a ploy to get into my pants I swear to god—”

“It’s not, I meant it!” Then Kuroo realised what he said with wide eyes and he blanched. “Oh man, do I have to apologise for that too?”

“Please stop apologising. I can’t take the secondhand embarrassment anymore,” Tsukishima muttered.

“You’ll have to silence me. Take that knife—maybe wipe off the mayonnaise first—and just, right in the jugular. Mercy killing. I’m begging you.”

“You can’t spring a confession and a murder on me like that.” Despite the situation, Tsukishima gave a hysterical laugh. Or maybe it was the right reaction. How was he supposed to react to this anyway? It wasn’t like there was an instruction manual about feelings and relationships. “You could’ve given me twenty-four hours so I could be mentally prepared.”

“Sorr—”

“Say sorry one more time,” Tsukishima warned.

“Sorr—”

“This is the worst confession I have ever received,” Tsukishima bit out from behind his embarrassment, “and believe me, that’s saying a lot because one time someone asked me out with a shitty e-card from the early 2000s!”

“Don’t say anymore.” Kuroo groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Let me stew in humiliation without drowning in shame.”

Tsukishima leaned back to gain some distance and for the first time today, gave the man in front of him a critical eye-over. What he’d seen and accepted at first glance was quickly demolishing in front of his eyes and he couldn’t believe how wrong he’d been all of these years. “You are the biggest wreck of a human being I have ever come across,” Tsukishima informed him, feeling no need to hold back whatsoever. Nothing they said now could make the situation worse, so why not just throw it all out there?

“Like you’re one to talk.” Kuroo’s cheeks were tinted a lovely shade of pink, and it was so tempting to reach out and touch and find out just how warm his skin was. “You’re not exactly the same sultry stripper I thought you were either. You are the embodiment of suspicion and anxiety. Susiety.”

Tsukishima chose to ignore the last part, deeming it another form of word vomit, and muttered, “Different places, different personas. First impressions are almost always wrong, aren’t they?”

“Right. How about this?” Kuroo gave a small smile, so small, and it was almost shy. Tsukishima knew at that moment he’d be unable to refuse whatever Kuroo asked of him. “We know each other, but not personally. Why don’t we start from there, as friends, and work our way up? I mean, that’s—that’s only if you want, of course.”

“Friends?” Tsukishima repeated. That was unexpected, but not unwelcome, and he answered honestly.  “I’d like that.”


	2. Chapter 2

 

It was no secret that Tsukishima was not built for social interaction, and it’d been that way since the start of his school days. He’d excuse himself from pointless conversations with classmates because they bored him to tears. Who cared about an upcoming birthday party when it happened to everyone every year? Who cared about kissing their boyfriends and girlfriends when they could all kiss his ass instead?

It went without saying that his classmates found him distant at best and brutally offensive at worst.

His brother teased him about not getting along with his peers and offered pointers which flopped harder than a pancake when put into practice. His parents lamented the lack of cursing and wrestling in the house, which Tsukishima privately thought was a good thing, thank you very much.

Given all of these issues, none of them could’ve predicted that Tsukishima would find a friend and keep him for years to come. Little Yamaguchi was a special breed of saint and befriending the biggest cactus in school meant he understood the intricacies of friendship better than most.

Tsukishima needed that knowledge now. He stood in from of Yamaguchi’s door readying himself; there was no doubt Yamaguchi would turn this into an interrogation but it had to be done. With a heavy heart and an even heavier fist, Tsukishima raised his hand and knocked twice on the frame.

“What’s up?” Yamaguchi said from his position on the bed. He was lying on his back, pillow under his head and astronomy book propped on his chest. He took one look at Tsukishima, haggard and swaying, and said, “If you’re here to complain about the heat then go dunk your head in the sink. That, or call the repairman up for a quote to fix the air con.”

“It’s not that,” Tsukishima said, though now that the thought had been put into his head, he did kind of want to make a remark about his shirt sticking to his underarms. He fought down the urge and instead said, “I need to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“Tsukki, please. If I didn’t laugh when that pigeon tried to mate you last year then I wouldn’t laugh at you now.” The sincerity of the words was belied by the fact that Yamaguchi had recorded the incident and sent it to almost everyone they knew. Tsukishima still hadn’t lived it down. “Now, what’s this about? Ah, let me guess. Yes, you’re handsome. Yes, you’re smart. No, you can’t buy a T-rex costume from ebay.”

“It’s about making friends,” Tsukishima cut in.

The book fell out of Yamaguchi’s hands, and he froze with his hands curled in the air like he was still holding it.

“Hey.” Tsukishima tentatively took a step into the room. No reaction. Well, it was slightly better than the crazed laughter he’d been expecting but Yamaguchi was actually not moving and was he even breathing? “Yamaguchi?”

_Shit, I think I broke him._

It took several more seconds for Yamaguchi to collect himself and start functioning again. He put his hands together and stared over them. “Making friends,” he said. “You mean like the kind where you talk to _people_ , hang out with _people_ and bond with _people_.”

The emphasis Yamaguchi put on the word ‘people’ was insulting, like he was implying Tsukishima wasn’t capable of interacting with them. Which he wasn’t, but Yamaguchi didn’t have to have so little faith in him.

“What other kinds are there?”

“I don’t know, with your little dinosaur figurines? Why are you even asking? You can’t do friendships.”

“I can too,” Tsukishima huffed. “I like to think I’ve matured mentally and emotionally since I was a teenager.”

“You introduced your colleagues to me last year and called them dumbasses behind their backs.”

“I like to think I’ve matured mentally and emotionally since last year,” Tsukishima amended. “And do you know how many times I’ve said no to looking at their fern fossils, but they still won’t stop bugging me about it?”

“Fern fossils. Oh, the humanity!” Yamaguchi threw a hand to his head like he was about to faint.

“We’re getting off-point.”

“You never actually stated your point.”

“I can do friendship, or at least I thought I could for a moment, and now I need you to teach me how to be a good friend before I screw it up.”

Yamaguchi’s face went completely blank, then his eyes widened in horror.

“Are you manipulating someone?”

“No.”

“Blackmailing someone?”

“No! I’m an asshole but I’m not that kind of asshole. What do you take me for, geez.”

“That’s true.” Yamaguchi studied him through narrowed eyes. “Are you being scammed? Look, I know the Nigerian prince seems like a nice fellow but he’s just going to ask you for money—”

“He’s not a Nigerian prince,” Tsukishima said through gritted teeth. He had never regretted starting this conversation more. “He’s a normal Japanese man who is perfectly capable of earning his own money.”

“Friendship. With a normal Japanese man. Who earns his own money.” It was clear to see Yamaguchi connecting the dots, and then with a wicked grin he patted the space on the bed next to him. “I think there’s something you’re not telling me. I want the whole story and if you leave anything out, I’ll let you crash and burn while I take joy in the wreckage your life becomes.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me.”

“No, but I would let you flounder for a bit and laugh at you.”

Tsukishima blew out an annoyed breath and perched himself on the end of Yamaguchi’s bed to recount the events of last week—specifically how he ended up having lunch with Kuroo and how in the middle of all the embarrassment, Kuroo asked if they could be friends.

“I said yes.” Tsukishima twisted his fingers together. Honestly, he had no idea what came over him at the time. He’d blurted out his answer like one of Kuroo’s panicked responses. The man was already rubbing off on him.

_Not like that, fucking hell._

“Oh my god.” Yamaguchi smacked his palms to his forehead and dragged them down his face in sheer exasperation. After he recomposed himself, he said in a steady tone, “I told you to work with him, not sleep with him.”

“Sleep with—I’m not sleeping—where did you even get that from?” Tsukishima spluttered. It wasn’t good form to sleep with colleagues. There was a saying about not eating and shitting in the same place, and Tsukishima held it in high regard. The idea of having sex with Kuroo was outrageous, and not in a good way.

Or maybe it would be. The idea had definitely crossed his mind more than once.

_Stop it._

“I’m not sleeping with him,” Tsukishima firmly said, and pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose to reiterate his point. It didn’t work and he knew it as soon as Yamaguchi barked out a laugh.

“Your ears are so red they could direct traffic.” Yamaguchi rubbed his hands together deviously. “How delicious. Tell me, did you do it in his office? Or maybe it was the elevator. Let’s hope there weren’t any cameras or there goes your integrity. Did you use protection? Oh, please tell me you used protection.”

“We didn’t—”

“You didn’t?” Yamaguchi’s eyes bulged out of his head and he flung himself at Tsukishima, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulder. “Tsukki, I taught you better than that! Oh shit, we need to make an appointment and get you tested. I swear I’ll castrate that guy if he’s carrying an STI and he didn’t tell you—”

“Let me finish!”

“That’s what you said,” Yamaguchi automatically replied.

Tsukishima grabbed Yamaguchi by the head and shoved him face first into the mattress. What was wrong with the idiot, his mind always jumping to sex first? “We didn’t fuck. Not at Karasuno, not at Neko+Ma and definitely not during lunch. It was all normal stuff.”

“Yeah, normal stuff,” Yamaguchi sarcastically said, batting Tsukishima’s hand away and sitting back up again. “Bedhead confessing his undying love to you and trying to exchange friendship bracelets. What’s there to be worried about, it’s not like we were freaking out about him yesterday or anything.”

When everything was compressed into one short sentence like that, it sounded like cause for concern but that was the thing—Yamaguchi was missing context and all the little details that made it believable and real.

“I could’ve sworn you said something yesterday. What was it?” Tsukishima raised one eyebrow and looked down at his friend. “Oh, that’s right. You said Kuroo doesn’t seem like the type of guy who would try to hurt me, and that I shouldn’t overthink things because sometimes things are what they are. Aren’t you being a tad hypocritical?”

Yamaguchi crossed his arms over his chest and huffed, clearly unhappy his words were being twisted to suit Tsukishima’s whims. “I don’t know him, I don’t trust him. But I guess I trust you to know what you’re doing. You definitely want to be friends with him?”

Tsukishima nodded and held out his phone to show the string of texts he’d been exchanging with Kuroo throughout the week. “Can’t hurt to try.”

“And him being in love with you?”

“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it?”

Yamaguchi heaved an immense sigh like it pained him to give in. He skimmed through the dozens of messages, making small grunts under his breath. It was hard to tell whether they were positive or negative, and Tsukishima decided to go halfway and settled on neutral.

“He sends a lot of pictures.”

“Mostly of his drawings,” Tsukishima said. “I think those figures are playing volleyball. They look like they’re blocking and spiking.”

“Does he play?”

Tsukishima shrugged. “Dunno.”

“You should’ve asked, dummy. It’s called making conversation which you are evidently terrible at.” Yamaguchi shook his head. “Why am I even surprised? Okay, lesson number one: when people tell you a thing, or show you a thing, you ask a question because you want to know more about them.”

“What if I don’t?” Tsukishima frowned. He’d never been one to ask questions, partly because he had trouble identifying instances where he could, and partly because he really could not care less about what went on in other people’s lives.

“Pretend you do,” Yamaguchi gave a roll of his eyes. “And in this case, you actually do. You lost a good chance to get to know him better. It could’ve been something you had in common.”

“I guess we’ll never know.”

Yamaguchi kept scrolling, making the same absentminded grunts every now and then. Tsukishima still couldn’t tell whether Yamaguchi was starting to warm up a bit, but he did seem to perk up when he found the selfies.

“I suppose he doesn’t look completely atrocious. If I squint and tilt my head, that pout could be considered attractive. What did you even say to that…” Yamaguchi stopped there, and his face went blank like his soul had ascended from his body.

“What?”

“You said he looked like he needed more fibre in his diet.”

“He looked constipated,” Tsukishima defended himself.

“He wasn’t trying to look constipated, he was trying to look cute.”

“Well, he doesn’t look cute.”

Yamaguchi kicked Tsukishima in the shin and snorted. “You are such a liar. Don’t think I don’t remember all that crap you used to say about him. _Oh god, Yamaguchi, you should see him in all of his otherworldly glory! His arms are like muscled ropes capable of crushing boulders! He could lift me over his head with one arm and jerk himself off with the other!_ ”

“Oh my god, shut up.” Tsukishima could feel his entire face blooming red like a fire hydrant. He might have moaned about all of his hot clients but never did he spew shitty lines about any of them. “I never said anything like that.”

“You’re right, it was more like,” Yamaguchi cleared his throat, “ _Every swivel of my sinful hips brought us closer. Lust burned bright in his eyes and in his cock too as it swelled and saluted me with the highest of honours. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to fall to my knees and take him into my mouth, take him into my bed and take him for a ride high into the heavens._ ”

Tsukishima burst out laughing and gave his friend a half-hearted shove. “Holy shit, that was even worse. Have you ever thought about going into writing? I hear there’s an audience thirsty for poorly written erotica.”

“My erotica could sell millions.” Yamaguchi sniffed. “And I don’t hear you denying you were insanely attracted to Bedhead.”

“Okay, fine.” Tsukishima threw his hands up in defeat. Yamaguchi knew too much and there was no getting out of this conversation. He might as well admit to all of his dark and dirty thoughts because at this point there was no sinking any lower. “Back then when it was all rules and regulations, I could look and I could touch but I couldn’t _have_ , so I thought a lot about ripping off Kuroo’s offending clothing and fucking his brains out.”

Yamaguchi gave himself a high-five.

“But now,” Tsukishima stressed, “it’s different. He’s not some nameless stranger who’ll be no strings attached. He’s a friend and it wouldn’t just be sex. It would be flowers and dates and love, which I can’t and won’t do. I’m not going to jeopardise our working relationship because I can’t handle a romantic one.”

“Haha!” Yamaguchi crowed, pouncing on him and throwing the two of them down flat. The mattress bounced under their weight and Tsukishima flailed desperately to stop them rolling off the bed, his attempts made all the more difficult by Yamaguchi’s bony elbows and knees sticking into his body. “Just because you don’t intend to doesn’t mean you don’t want to. You might not want to date him, but you do want to fuck him. Who knows, maybe you’ll learn to love him later, right?”

“No,” Tsukishima growled.

“Your ears,” Yamaguchi cracked up. “They don’t lie!”

Tsukishima kneed Yamaguchi in the stomach and pushed him off, snatching his phone back and holding it to his chest. “You know what, forget it. I don’t even know why I came to you for help in the first place.”

“What? Oh no, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi flung himself over Tsukishima again, and it was really getting too hot and humid for this. “I’ll stop teasing, okay? I’ll help you out, and I’ll even promise to keep my laughter to a minimum.”

“I’m glad one of us is having fun.”

“That’s what you said.”

“Fuck off.”

“No, but seriously. Bedhead’s having all the fun sending you selfies and you haven’t even returned a single one. We gotta fix that.” Yamaguchi nabbed the phone back and snapped a picture, sending it as an attachment before Tsukishima could even protest. “Lesson number two: when someone sends you a selfie, you send one back. It’s selfie courtesy.”

“You just made that up.”

“I did.”

“I think I’m mid-blink in that photo.”

“You are.”

“Yamaguchi.”

“C’mon, Bedhead’ll find it endearing and if he doesn’t then is that someone you want to be with?”

“There is no being with—”

_Bzzt!_

“Case in point.” With a self-satisfied grin, Yamaguchi opened the message and began flapping his free hand. It was a photo of Kuroo in what was probably his sleepwear—a faded grey shirt and cat-patterned boxers. “Okay, you know what, I can totally see why you want to bone him. He’s hot and all, but I’m still not giving him my blessing.”

Before Tsukishima could refuse the blessing because there was no blessing needed, Yamaguchi jabbed his thumbs into the screen and typed out a message lightning fast. He flung the phone away with a mad cackle and Tsukishima caught it with both hands, then glared at the screen like it oozed poison.

 

 **[Tsukishima Kei 5:37PM]**  
Cute shot how bout u show me the abs under there huh

 

The groan that Tsukishima let out was almost loud enough to drown out Yamaguchi’s giggles.

“This could be classified as sexual harassment. Are you trying to get me fired?”

“Don’t deny you want to see them too, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi cooed. “You’ve been drooling over him since the first day you met him. I’m doing you favour, really.”

“Your favours are worthless to me,” Tsukishima said. “And seriously, all those years of selling sex over the phone and that line was the best you could do?”

“Cut me some slack. I’m out of practice, okay.”

_Bzzt!_

 

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 5:38PM]**  
This isn’t Tsukishima is it

 

Tsukishima hunched to try and hide the screen but Yamaguchi, the nosy jerk, peered over his shoulder to read the message.

 

 **[Tsukishima Kei 5:38PM]**  
NO. That was my friend. Ignore him.

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 5:39PM]**  
Shame, I would’ve done it

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 5:39PM]**  
My abs are CUT

 

“Ooh,” Yamaguchi breathed, resting his chin on Tsukishima’s shoulder. “Nice. Tell him to send one.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged.”

Tsukishima locked his phone and stuffed it back into his pocket. “I never should’ve come to you.”

“You want to learn how to be a good friend from the best friend you have. Aren’t I doing such a good job? I’m tolerating Bedhead and even considering his importance as the object of your very dull fantasies.”

“I will suffocate you with your pillow.”

“I can feel the love,” Yamaguchi dryly said, “which is why I’m helping you. Don’t worry, Tsukki, you won’t screw this up. If I can be friends with you, then I can teach you to be friends with anybody.” 

 

.

 

Yachi had moved down to Tokyo for the duration of her university degree because it made an easier commute. The plan had always been to move back to Miyagi after graduation, but she was offered a position at a nearby company which she accepted. One thing led to another and she continued to reside in the city even now.

It wasn’t all bad because Yachi visited her mother once every two weeks or so and when she did, she dropped in to see Tsukishima and Yamaguchi as well and they’d spend the weekend watching crappy movies and seeing what monstrosities they could concoct in the kitchen. Out of the three of them, Yamaguchi was the only one who could make edible food so they did the logical thing and kicked him out of the kitchen.

When Yachi threw open their front door that evening, she had their house key swinging in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other.

“Dumplings!” she exclaimed. “We can’t mess up dumplings!”

Without looking up, Yamaguchi flipped another page in his astronomy book and said, “Knowing you two, you’ll set the apartment on fire when you boil the water.”

Cooking without Yamaguchi had begun one night when Tsukishima wanted to order pizza but Yamaguchi wanted to cook and they couldn’t settle it using the usual methods of flipping a coin or rock paper scissors. Yachi, ever the pacifist, suggested they compromise and make a pizza together. The kitchen had ended up a disaster zone, and Yamaguchi refused to cook with them until they learned how to do it. Thus, their tradition was born.

Tsukishima chuckled from his laptop and got up to take the groceries from her. “C’mon, Yachi. Let’s make a start. I’m starving.”

Yachi gave Yamaguchi a grin and a wave, which prompted him to close his book and follow them into the kitchen like a loving puppy at her heels. Yamaguchi sat himself on a stool by the counter while Tsukishima and Yachi took out the ingredients and began the process of making dumplings: chopping, mixing, stuffing and folding.

It was a far messier process than Tsukishima expected.

“The packet’s not opening.” Yachi grumbled as she worked the plastic with her fingers. The dumpling skins inside were stuck to one another in a column and the plastic was vacuum-tight against it. She bit into the corner with her teeth and began to pull.

"Wait, don’t do that—”

“Just use the knife—”

As soon as Tsukishima and Yamaguchi spoke, the packet tore open and all the dumpling skins plopped out onto the counter and flour flew everywhere. It coated their shirts, their faces and went all over the floor.

Yachi winced and set the remaining dumpling skins on the bench. “Sorry.”

Yamaguchi waved the apology away. “Could’ve been worse.”

"Yeah, you could’ve dropped everything on the floor,” Tsukishima offered, mashing the meat with the chopped mushrooms and chives. “Think we’re ready to start wrapping and frying them.”

“This is the easy part,” Yamaguchi confidently said. “You can’t mess this part up.”

It must have been a jinx because even stuffing the damned dumplings did not go to plan. The skins were too hard and wouldn’t fold properly, the meat kept falling out and when they squished it back in it would pop out the other end. They growled their frustration at the plate of misshapen dumplings and huffed at their pitiful efforts.

All in all, it was a pretty standard weekend.

They chatted as they worked, and the first topic to come up was Tsukishima’s work because Yachi had referred him to Neko+Ma and wanted to know how everything was going.

“You were right,” Tsukishima said as he squeezed another dumpling shut only get meat juice dribbling down his fingers. “Kozume's good. He’s one of the best people I’ve ever worked with and that’s saying a lot.”

“Maybe you can lure him into working for the museum,” Yamaguchi said.

“Are you kidding?” Tsukishima snorted. “There’s no way the Prefectural Science Museum could pay Kozume what Neko+Ma does. Besides, the content he’d make in the name of science would be so bland compared to what he usually does he’d quit in half a year.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen some of the animations at the museum. I remember they were all about DNA and RNA and other complicated biology stuff,” Yachi said, placing a lopsided dumpling on the plate. “Besides, Kuroo would be heartbroken if Kenma left. They’re always stuck together like they’re superglued at the hip.”

“Wait.” Tsukishima held up a floured hand in front of Yachi’s face. “You know Kuroo? Kuroo Tetsurou?”

“Uh-huh.” Yachi nodded. “He’s Kenma’s best friend so I saw him regularly at university. He’s hired me before to design for marketing and merchandise.”

Unbelievable, Tsukishima shook his head in disbelief. The world just kept getting smaller and smaller.

“Kuroo actually asked me if I wanted to be a part of their team when I first started out,” Yachi chattered, brushing back a strand of hair with her shoulder. She’d grown it long and often wore it in a low ponytail or bun to look more mature because everyone kept mistaking her for a twelve year old. “But I wanted to see if I could make it on my own, so I declined the offer. We still keep in contact but I haven’t seen them in a while.”

Having filled one plate of dumplings, she took a pan to the stove and began to heat it up. Tsukishima pulled out a second plate and continued making dumplings.

“You don’t find it… ah, distasteful? The things Neko+Ma produces, I mean,” Yamaguchi said, sharing a look with Tsukishima.

He understood immediately. Some of the content in the games were rather… out there, and it tinged a bit too close to home since it reminded them of their previous jobs. Yachi wasn’t aware of their crazy night lives outside of university and it hadn’t been hard to keep it a secret since they attended different universities. Any bags under their eyes could be explained away by the usual student excuses of an all-nighter or a hangover. It wasn’t that they thought Yachi would judge them or gossip like the housewives, but it was something they had to keep safe to protect themselves. The fewer who knew, the better.

“Oh no, of course not.” Yachi shook her head. “I don’t judge. Besides, I think it’s brilliant Kuroo and Bokuto found their niche in the market. They’ve done really well for themselves.”

Bokuto, Tsukishima surmised, would be the other co-founder.

“I still can’t believe you’re all working together to make a game.” Yachi beamed, stars shining in her eyes and winking around her demeanour. “We should all go out for drinks sometime.”

The face Tsukishima pulled rang a close parallel to a cat’s face just before it was about to sneeze. It was a mixture of incredulity, horror and fear. Oh yes, there was definitely fear on his face. Tsukishima knew how alcohol affected Kuroo—it made the corners of his eyes soften, his voice rumble a in lower timbre, his hands wander more freely…

“That is a bad idea,” Tsukishima swallowed, shifting his legs slightly. He wouldn’t be able to watch Kuroo down a drink without popping a boner.

“That is a wonderful idea,” Yamaguchi crooned. Mischief gleamed in his eyes and Tsukishima knew nothing good would come out of it. “Why don’t you call them now and set it?”

Tsukishima’s hand darted out to stop Yachi from reaching into her pocket. “I don’t think so.”

Yachi gave him a confused look, but didn’t move her hand. “Why not?”

“Yeah, Tsukki, why not?” Yamaguchi, the little shit, didn’t give him a chance to reply. “Don’t worry about him, Yachi. He’s just being an antisocial grump. He needs to get out more and make some _friends_.”

Tsukishima would have to be really fucking dense to miss the way Yamaguchi stressed the last word.

Yachi patted Tsukishima’s hand, sending flour drifting towards the floor, and gave him an understanding smile. “Kenma and Kuroo are nice people, and you can get to know them better this way.”

“I would feel very awkward.”

“We’ll be there to help you,” Yamaguchi said.

Tsukishima couldn’t help but snort. In what world did Yamaguchi offer Tsukishima help when it came to social anxiety? The other male sure became a lot more confident when interfering with other people’s love lives—no, it was not a love life, dammit!

With no other defence, Tsukishima moved his hand and Yachi made the call.

“Hello? Kuroo? Hi, it’s Yachi! Oh, Kenma’s with you?”

Tsukishima sighed, and began frying some of the dumplings. The universe was not turning their favours onto him today.

“I was thinking all of us could catch up over some drinks since it’s been a while.”

What had he done to incur the universe’s wrath? Tsukishima recounted the events of the past few weeks but nothing recent came to mind. Could it be something he’d done in university or high school? Wait, maybe this be karma coming back to bite him in the ass for sucking the money out of all his customers. The standard was twenty bucks for a lapdance but that was dirt cheap so he boosted his own rate to thirty bucks. It wasn’t cheap, considering clients paid for about three minutes of his time, but it wasn’t on the exorbitant end of the scale either.

_Bzzt!_

Tsukishima wiped his hands clean on a towel and fished his phone out of his pocket, raising an eyebrow when he saw who it was.

 

 **[Kozume Kenma 6:24PM]**  
Are you sure it’s okay to meet up for drinks?

 **[Tsukishima Kei 5:24PM]**  
Why wouldn’t it be?

 **[Kozume Kenma 6:24PM]**  
I want to make sure you don’t feel pressured.

 **[Kozume Kenma 6:25PM]**  
I know what that’s like so I make sure I don’t do the same to others.

 

Ah, Tsukishima thought. That would explain why Kozume hadn’t mentioned anything about knowing Tsukishima from the strip club when they first met at Neko+Ma.

 

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:25PM]**  
It’s fine, really. Yachi wants to see you guys anyway.

 **[Kozume Kenma 6:25PM]**  
Sure?

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:25PM]**  
You don’t have to be such an overprotective mother cat.

 **[Kozume Kenma 6:26PM]  
** Miaow.

 

Tsukishima laughed out loud in surprise. Did the solemn developer just crack a joke?

“What’s so funny?” Yamaguchi asked.

“Just texting Kozume,” Tsukishima said, setting his phone on the counter and concentrating on the dumplings. They were almost done, brown and crispy and slightly wonky but edible nonetheless.

“Oh, let’s do this instead. Give me a minute, Kuroo.” Yachi tapped some buttons on her phone and a few seconds later, Kuroo’s face filled her screen. “Say hi to Tsukishima and Yamaguchi!”

“Whoa, hey.” Kuroo grinned, and the image shifted so that they could see Kozume in the background curled up in a sofa with his phone in his hand. “Nice to finally meet you, Yamaguchi. Yachi’s talked a bit about you.”

“Yeah? I’ve heard quite a lot about you from Tsukki.”

Tsukishima’s fingers twitched, tempted to throw the frying pan hard enough to knock the cowlick off Yamaguchi’s head. He quelled the urge and sent his friend a death glare instead, which was conveniently ignored.

“Ohoho? Tsukki talks about me?” There was definitely a sly twinkle in Kuroo’s eye. “Do enlighten me of all the compliments he’s lavished upon my worthy self—OW!”

The image shook, a clatter came through the speakers, and then all they could see was white.

“I think that’s their roof,” Yachi whispered. “Do you think he’s dead?"

“Don’t be such a dick, Kuroo,” came Kozume’s disembodied voice.

“Jeez, okay, okay,” Kuroo grumbled, his face coming back on screen again. With an embellished roll of his eyes, he said, “Kenma threw a cushion at me.”

“You deserve it,” Tsukishima said. He thought back to all the things he’d ever said about Kuroo: his wild but adorable bedhead, his grin that jumped between happy and ferocious, his godly body worthy of Adonis...

Tsukishima had said many things about Kuroo to Yamaguchi.

 _Don’t you dare_ , he mouthed at his friend who gave an innocent smile.

“Anyway!” Yachi chirped, thankfully changing the subject and unknowingly sparing Tsukishima the embarrassment. “You guys are free tomorrow, right? Let’s go to that new lounge, the one that opened up last month. I hear it’s really good.”

“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” Kuroo said. “We’ll meet there at six. Is that good for you guys?”

Yachi confirmed the arrangement Tsukishima finished frying the last of the dumplings and served them up. They did look like they were made by three year olds but they smelled divine and that was the most important thing.

“Oh, you guys are having dumplings?” Kuroo said, peering at the table as Yachi flipped her phone and showed him the spread. “Man, I’m jealous. Kenma and I ordered pizza for the fourth time this week. I never thought I’d get sick of pizza but I’m definitely heaving at the thought of magherita.”

“Aww, and our food is home cooked too,” Yachi laughed. “Too bad for you!”

A long, loud and agonised groan filled the apartment.

“Don’t be too jealous,” Yamaguchi said, poking a dumpling with a chopstick in a show of exaggerated caution. “Tsukki and Yachi made it so there might be toxic side effects.”

“Oi!” they said at the same time.

“Aww, Tsukki, you can’t cook?” Kuroo teased. Tsukishima’s cheeks warmed up and he turned his head to avoid looking at the mocking smile on screen. “Well, I’ll have to cook for you sometime then. You should try my specialty; I make a mean mackerel pike.”

Tsukishima opened his mouth, and he wanted to give a snappy retort but nothing came out. His mind flitted back years ago to the days when he still danced in the strip club and spent his nights nestled in a warm lap. Kuroo’s lap, to be specific, since Tsukishima didn’t dance for anyone else once Kuroo gave him twice the money he’d usually earn in one night to secure him.

It was all about the money, at least that’s what Tsukishima thought. But now that he saw everything in a new light, he realised it had never concerned Kuroo.

Kuroo always spoke about couple things, relationship things, serious things that Tsukishima easily brushed aside as flirtation because a lot of his other clients had said the same things. It was easy to pretend there was a chance of taking the opportunities that Kuroo offered when he seemed so sincere and sometimes Tsukishima thought he heard hope behind the light-hearted words.

It could have been so easy to let his guard down and say yes, to give into the hands that caressed his legs, always his legs, like they were fragile and any pressure more than a feather-light touch would shatter him.

 _It’s fine_ , Tsukishima would say as he thrusted lazily to the hum of the bass and brushing his cock against the bulge in Kuroo’s slacks, _touch me, just touch me_.

But Kuroo never pressed any harder, insisting that Tsukishima might just break because he was so damned skinny and he had to eat better.

 _I’ll cook for you_ , Kuroo would say as he reciprocated each of the thrusts with his own and biting down on his lip to retain a semblance of control over his baser desires, _I make a mean mackerel pike._

And it was always the mackerel pike because Tsukishima learned over the years that it was his favourite food, it was the one thing that Kuroo knew how to make by heart and his mother had taught him how to make it.

Tsukishima never thought that offer stood ready to be accepted.

_You meant it?_

Yachi glanced at Tsukishima inquisitively but before she could say anything, Kenma’s voice floated through the speaker and saved him from the questions sitting on her lips. “Kuroo, pizza’s here. Go pay the delivery guy.”

“Ah,” Yachi said apologetically. “Sorry, we won’t bother you any longer. We have to make a start on our own food too. We’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Sure thing.” Kuroo flashed a smile, and it might have been Tsukishima’s imagination that the smile lingered a little longer on him. “See you all there.”

Yachi hung up with a happy farewell and the three of them began to eat, making small talk about their plans for the next day. Tsukishima took a few bites, not really tasting anything, and he fiddled with his chopsticks as he swallowed down the giddiness rising in his chest.

In that moment, two things came to Tsukishima with crushing clarity: one, he was feeling giddy and two, he was feeling giddy at the prospect of seeing Kuroo again.

_Well, shit._

 

.

 

Later that night, Tsukishima stepped out of the bathroom with a towel slung around his neck to catch the droplets dripping from his hair. It was past midnight and his eyes seared with pain every time he blinked. Squinting at the TV for five hours straight while thrashing his friends at Mario Kart wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done.

He fell into his mattress with a groan and picked his phone off the nightstand and next to the lamp to set the alarm. It blinked with unread messages and he debated leaving it for the morning but curiosity got the better of him and he opened the thread.

There was no doubt about it; Yamaguchi was a little shit and anyone who called him a freckled angel could jump off a cliff.

He must have swiped Tsukishima’s phone during dinner and sneakily taken a photo because there was no way in hell Tsukishima would send a picture himself with his cheeks stuffed like a hamster’s, and there was absolutely no way in the deepest depths of all nine layers of hell he would send a picture like that to Kuroo.

 

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 10:10PM]**  
You’re cute

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 10:11PM]**  
Tell Yamaguchi thanks

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 10:11PM]**  
And can I get his number

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 10:12PM]**  
Not planning on ganging up on you or anything

 

Tsukishima sighed, screenshotted the message and sent it to Yamaguchi with a tinge of regret. This would only encourage the other male into giving him more lessons on turning friendships into relationships (which was still a bunch of bull as far as Tsukishima was concerned) and that reminded him of today’s second lesson.

_When someone sends you a selfie, you send one back._

“Selfie courtesy,” Tsukishima mumbled. He hadn’t actually sent a selfie to Kuroo yet, and the ones Yamaguchi sent hardly counted. He tapped his finger on the screen as he tried to sort out his thoughts.

Was he going to do this?

Yes, he decided. Friendship was a two-way street and he had to start reciprocating.

Tsukishima shifted onto his side, switched the camera to front view and took a snap. It wasn’t a bad picture, he had to admit. Half his face was obscured by his pillow and the other half glowed under the soft yellow lamplight. Long shadows swept over the crest of his cheek while his eye shone like liquid gold.

He almost looked seductive.

 

 **[Tsukishima Kei 12:17AM]**  
I thought I was beautiful?

 

He set the phone back on his nightstand and settled into bed, but it buzzed almost immediately.

 

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 12:18AM]**  
And so you are

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 12:18AM]**  
Good night beautiful

 

.

 

When Tsukishima got up at one in the afternoon the next day, Yachi was already in the kitchen making instant noodles. She twirled around to greet him a good morning, far too chipper for someone who spent the night tormented on a lumpy couch. They really needed to buy an air mattress for her before back started deforming.

“I can’t wait for tonight.” Yachi happily slurped up her noodles and bounced in her seat. “I haven’t seen Kuroo and Kenma in so long and it’s going to be so much fun having a couple of drinks together and catching up.”

“Uh-huh.”

Yachi tilted her head at him in consideration. “You don’t seem very excited,” she noted. “Is this about the whole awkwardness thing again? I promise it’ll be okay.”

“That’s not it. And I am excited. So excited. Can’t you tell?”

“Not until you’ve had at least two cups of coffee.” Yachi giggled. “I made a fresh pot just for you.”

Tsukishima groaned in relief and reached for like a man dying of thirst. “You are my favourite friend now.”

“I don’t think that’s saying much since you only have two friends.” Yachi clapped her hands together with an excited gasp. “Oh, but we can include Kuroo and Kenma in the mix now, can’t we? You guys seemed so close last night, texting and teasing and everything. And to think you’ve only known each other for about a week!”

 _If only you knew_ , Tsukishima dryly thought. Out loud, he said, “They’re good at their jobs.”

“I’m pretty sure you don’t hang out with them just because they know how to draw, Tsukki.”

“Okay,” Tsukishima conceded. He lifted his first cup of coffee to his lips and gulped it down, nevermind that the liquid scorched his tongue. The caffeine hit was far more important. “I like Kozume, he’s nice. He looks out for people.”

“Mm,” Yachi agreed. “He can be quite overprotective.”

“And Kuroo… he, uh…” Tsukishima trailed off and floundered for words. What could he say about Kuroo without giving anything away? Nothing came to mind so he took another sip of coffee to buy himself some time.

“Let me guess. He likes you.”

Tsukishima choked and spat the coffee back out into his cup. He coughed violently, throat burning and lungs heaving for breath. “H-How did you…”

Yachi shrugged. She didn’t look surprised at all and set her chopsticks on the edge of the noodle cup. “Kuroo’s pretty transparent. It’s no secret when he falls hard and fast. It happens quite a lot.”

“Oh.” Tsukishima set his cup down, his gut clenching in displeasure. Kuroo fell for people all the time? What about the part where he said he’d been in love in him since the first night Tsukishima crawled into his lap? Was Kuroo lying to get into his pants?

Yachi must have seen the grey cloud hanging over his head because she quickly said, “I don’t mean it like that, like he’s a player or anything. If he likes you, then he genuinely likes you and he’s not going to, I don’t know, sleep around or anything. He’s like, a romantic. You know the type, falling over their feet and serenading their lovers, that type of thing.”

Well, Tsukishima certainly hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He couldn’t help the small smile on his face though. “Romantic, huh.”

“Yup. Absolutely shameless. He loves all the sappy stuff. It’s quite sweet, but embarrassing sometimes.”

Tsukishima could relate to that.

“Are you going to go out with him?” Yachi rested her chin on top of her hands and if she had a tail she could be wagging it. “Because I think you two would make a really cute couple. You’re both tall and handsome and snarky and intimidating and—”

“I don’t know,” Tsukishima cut in with a laugh. “Kuroo seems very inclined towards romance. That might be a small problem for me because, you know, I don’t usually do the whole romance thing. A relationship between us could end up a disaster.”

“Demiromantics can date people!” Yachi squawked. “You have to have faith!”

She said that quite often, convinced that Tsukishima would one day find a fish in the sea who understood that he was different when it came to relationships. Tsukishima had long given up on dating because all his dates ever said in the end was that he was a cold bastard who couldn’t feel love.

Not quite true.

“What’s it like being in love?” Tsukishima asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten that far with someone.”

“Uhh.” Yachi scratched her cheek with a slight blush and she stammered when she answered. “It’s um, w-warm. Like you’re happy to see the other person and you want to see them a lot. And you feel nervous when you see that person, in your stomach like there are butterflies and their wings are beating against the walls. And you want to wrap your arms around the other person and feel them next to you, and you daydream about them and wonder what they’re doing. Y-Yeah.”

Tsukishima stared at her. He hadn’t fallen as deep as her, but he sure ticked off some of those criteria. Did that mean he was on his way to falling in love with Kuroo?

“W-Why do you ask?” Yachi asked, fanning her cheeks.

“Uh.” Tsukishima gave a vague gesture towards himself. “I might… kind of…?”

Silence.

Then Yachi’s screech rocketed through the entire apartment and Tsukishima jumped, crashing his knee into the table and knocking the noodle cup over. From Yamaguchi’s room came a loud thump and a frightful curse.

“TSUKISHIMA KEI!” Yachi screamed. “ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU HAVE ROMANTIC FEELINGS FOR KUROO?”

“Oh my god, I knew it!” Yamaguchi shouted from the other side of the apartment.

“Shut up, Yamaguchi!” Tsukishima yelled back, feeling the old flare in his cheeks again.

“Tsukki!” Yachi grabbed his hands and shook them up and down. “Do you? Do you?”

This was too much. Tsukishima slipped his hands out of Yachi’s and sank down into one of the chairs, running a hand through his tousled hair and trying to sort out his mess of feelings. He never had to do anything like this before, never had to consider introspection and it was a pain in the ass that he was willing to do it for Kuroo.

“I don’t know, maybe?” he muttered. “I’ve never done any of this before so it’s confusing. I don’t know what to do with all the attention Kuroo’s giving me. It’s nice but at the same time it’s too much. I don’t know how to go about it without giving him the wrong idea. What if he thinks I’m a tease? I mean, I am, but that’s not what I’m aiming for here. I can’t do friendship but I can’t do relationship either and I’m stuck in this weird middle ground—”

“Okay, okay, that’s okay.” Yachi’s hands patted his cheeks, trying to calm him down. Her fingers were cool against his heated skin and he gratefully leaned into her touch. “It’s fine. You’re upset right now because you’re not sure which way you want to go. You’ll figure it out so long as you talk to Kuroo about it. He has to know what you’re thinking—that’s how friendships and relationships work. It takes two, you know?”

Tsukishima nodded against her hands. She was right, as she often was. It was odd how she had practically given him the same advice Yamaguchi had—to communicate. Perhaps that was an area in dire need of development. But first, speaking of Yamaguchi…

“You were quite specific when you were talking about falling in love.” A wicked grin split his face and he laughed at the horrified look on her face. “Was there someone in particular you were thinking about?”

“Jerk.” Yachi tried to scowl, but it was not successful on her youthful face. She looked more cute than anything. “You know who I was talking about.”

“It’s amazing Yamaguchi hasn’t noticed,” Tsukishima dryly said. “You’re not the least bit subtle about it.”

It was amazing how neither of them realised, actually. They were two cowards blindly in love with each other and both of them were too scared to make the first move.

 

.

 

They spotted Kuroo and Kozume as soon as they entered the lounge, the tinted windows and dimmed lights doing nothing to obscure their distinctive hairstyles. The two of them sat opposite each other in two loveseats with a shiny black table between them. Yachi bounded up to them, all smiles and hugs, and officially introduced Yamaguchi but Kozume was the only one to respond since Kuroo’s attention was elsewhere.

It would be a lie to say Tsukishima couldn’t feel Kuroo’s heated gaze raking him up and down and settling on the fall of his singlet that revealed angled collarbones smooth skin. It would also be a lie to say Tsukishima wasn’t flattered by the attention but he wasn’t going to admit that so easily. Instead, he levelled an unimpressed look at Kuroo and waited.

“Uh… sorry?” Kuroo sheepishly said when he tore his eyes from Tsukishima’s chest and realised he’d been caught staring. “It’s just that you look, um, really good.”

That was the understatement of the year. Tsukishima looked more than good. He looked amazing and it was all thanks to Yachi who had cornered him and insisted on picking an outfit that would blow Kuroo’s mind.

“I could do something else to blow Kuroo’s mind,” Tsukishima told her. “And funnily enough, it involves blowing.”

She smacked him hard across the arm for that one.

“You don’t have to have an aneurysm over my outfit,” Tsukishima said. “But I have some flashier stuff in the drawers if that’s what you’re going for.”

Yachi yanked them open and the first thing she pulled out was a pair of three quarter leather pants. She held them up between her thumb and index fingers and turned to him with a quizzical look. “You own something like this?”

“Let’s just say my university days were full of great experimentation.” Tsukishima prayed she wouldn’t search in the back of the closet where he hid the more risqué items from his stripping days. Now those he wouldn’t be able to explain away easily.

“You should wear it.” She thrust them into his arms. “Forget taking his eyes off you, Kuroo won’t be able to take his eyes off your butt.”

“You don’t think leather’s a bit trashy for a lounge?”

“Not if you dress it up right.” Yachi continued rustling through his clothes, creeping dangerously close to the back. She opened up a drawer where he kept his lighter tops, pulled them out and laid them on his bed. “You weren’t joking when you said you were experimenting, huh. Okay, pair this with this!"

In one hand she held a black crop top with straps that criss-crossed at the back. In the other hand she held an extra-large singlet which dipped low in the front and even lower in the back.

“You’re not holding anything back tonight,” Tsukishima chuckled.

“If you owned a pair of short shorts, I’d put you in them.”

Little did she know there was a pair hiding only centimetres away from where she stood. Choosing to remain silent on that count, Tsukishima donned the outfit and gave an approving nod. “Not bad,” he said. “I’d be checking myself out all night if I could.”

“Let no-one ever accuse you of modesty.”

“Whoaaa.” Yamaguchi stuck his head around the door and eyed him, giving a friendly wolf-whistle. “Nice, Tsukki. Planning on giving Kuroo a lapdance or something?”

“Piss off,” Tsukishima said.

“God no!” Yachi sounded offended. “He’s not dressed like a stripper!”

Tsukishima was so close to telling her that these clothes were in fact bought for the sole purpose of stripping just to see what the expression on her face would be. She didn’t know, but surely Kuroo did since he would have seen these in a heap on his table before.

“I should look good since I dressed up with you in mind.” Tsukishima pretended to be oblivious to the shock on Kuroo’s face (Kenma was not so kind—he took a picture) and addressed the rest of their group. “I’m getting a drink. What do you guys want?”

Once he got their various orders, Tsukishima headed for the bar with a smirk. He knew Kuroo was following along and the heated gaze was set on him again like a homing beacon. The million dollar question was, was Kuroo staring at Tsukishima’s half-naked back or the curve of his ass?

Ass, Tsukishima decided. Those leather pants were _tight as fuck_.

“Two mojitos, one margarita and one strawberry daiquiri please.”

“I got them.” Kuroo was pressed at his side and handing the money over before Tsukishima could think about reaching for his wallet. “My shout.”

“Aren’t you just the perfect gentleman?” Tsukishima lauded him with an indulgent smile, not commenting on the fact that they were so close he could feel the press of Kuroo’s belt against his hip.

“I believe that’s what a gentleman does when courting the object of his affections.” Kuroo paused, seeing the arch of a golden eyebrow and quickly added, “At least that’s what I’d say if I were doing that. Which I’m not because it’s inappropriate. Not that I don’t want to because I do. Like, a lot. That doesn’t mean I want to be inappropriate. Inappropriate is kind of not the right word. Wow, it’s hot in here. You must be really hot in those pants. Not that I’ve been looking. Okay, yes I have.”

Tsukishima raised a hand to stop Kuroo rambling. There was definitely a flush razing both their faces and they did not need to look like ripe tomatoes when they were heading towards a heart to heart. “Okay, you need to stop there. It’s nice that you want to want to look at me and court me, romance me, woo me, however you want to put it. But all that stuff is a little…”

“You don’t like it?”

If heartbroken puppy eyes could make a man die of shame, Tsukishima would already be on the floor.

“It’s not that I don’t like it. I do. It’s, um, cute. But I’m not used to stuff like that.” Tsukishima wondered if he would have to spend half the evening giving him a lecture on romantic orientations, sexual orientations and all the terminology that came with it. Or maybe he would have to spend an entire evening drinking himself into a stupor and avoiding eye contact with everyone.

“Okay?”

What if it didn’t end up being okay? Tsukishima drummed his fingers on the bar counter and kept his eyes fixed on the bartender who was almost done with their order. Telling Kuroo was so much harder than telling any of his previous flings because Tsukishima really, really liked Kuroo and he really, really didn’t want to mess this up.

“I’m demiromantic.”

There was no response for a second, and then Kuroo carefully withdrew from his side. “Oh.”

_Oh._

Of course.

Why would this be any different?

Tsukishima should have known Kuroo was too good to be true. “Sorry,” he muttered, and reached for the drinks which the bartender served.

“Wait, no, no, no!” Kuroo grabbed him by the arm. Tsukishima tried to pull free but Kuroo didn’t let go. “Hear me out for a second, Tsukki. That’s not what I meant. I was surprised but I wasn’t saying no or anything.”

“Really,” Tsukishima sullenly said, “because your reaction echoed everyone else who I’ve told.”

"I’m serious,” Kuroo insisted, loosening his grip now that he was sure Tsukishima wouldn’t run away. “I’m fine with it. We’re not going to screw around while we’re working together so we’ve got time to figure things out. If you end up having romantic feelings for me then that’s great. If you don’t then that’s fine. But you know how I feel and given what you’re telling me, you might feel the same. Unless I’m reading everything wrong and I’m making an even bigger fool of myself. Am I doing that?”

“Not yet.” Tsukishima hid a smile in the palm of his hand. “You’re reading things right. I do want to try this but I’m not sure where I might fall later down the track. I’m telling you this in advance so I don’t screw up any expectations you might have.”

Kuroo shrugged. “Honestly, I never thought I’d get this far with you. I mean, you’re the most divine person I have ever laid eyes on and you’re deigning to hold conversation with me. My expectations of anything you’d want to give me at this point are dirt low.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You know what I mean.” Kuroo gave him an affectionate smile and began collecting their drinks. “You don’t have to be so worried about things not working out between us. If they don’t, I’m not going to hold it over your head. That’d be a pretty dick move.”

Tsukishima squinted after Kuroo and followed him back to their table. A hint of doubt niggled at the back of his mind-- their exchange had gone far smoother than he anticipated and that was a cause for suspicion because he’d long learned that there was always a catch.

Where was Kuroo’s catch?

The two of them sat in the remaining, and questionably empty, loveseat.

Yachi and Yamaguchi must have briefed Kozume while they were at the bar because the three of them were squished together on the opposite side trying too hard to look like they weren’t being the most obvious wingmen in existence.

Tsukishima and Kuroo sat a respectable distance from each other but still close enough to appease their friends, and effortlessly slipped into the conversation of how Yachi and Kozume first started talking to each other in their university media class. Neither Tsukishima nor Yamaguchi had heard this story before and it really didn’t come as a surprise to them that the two had met while freaking out about a presentation in front of the entire class.

“It was a theatre of five hundred people!” Yachi wailed, almost sloshing her mojito on Yamaguchi. “I was standing outside and I could hear everyone talking in there, and I couldn’t think straight and I thought I was going to faint but then I saw a guy at the other end of the hall gripping his notes like he was going to puke and then he started swaying on his feet and I had to help him before fell over and hit his head and died.”

“I thought _you_ were going to die,” Kozume said, slurping at the margarita. “You were sweating like a waterfall and screaming something about not going into the light. Then you started hyperventilating and I thought you were going to die in my arms. Do you know what that would have looked like if I had to carry your corpse into a theatre of five hundred?”

Yachi buried her head in her hands with a groan while the rest of them cracked up laughing. Tsukishima leaned back into the seat, feeling warm and comfortable and content with the way this evening was turning out. Maybe this was the type of socialising Yamaguchi always talked about—just having a good time with people, not necessarily being forced into small talk with strangers.

“What about Tsukishima and Yamaguchi?” Kozume asked. “How did you two meet?”

“I want to know too,” Kuroo said. He had one arm slung over the back of the chair, his hand dangling next to Tsukishima’s bare arm and his fingers dangerously close to gliding over his skin but not touching. “You guys seem to have known each other a while.”

"Since elementary school,” Yamaguchi confirmed. “Ahh, I’ll never forget how we met. It was at school, and these three bullies had me surrounded and they were teasing me about my height and my freckles. Then out of nowhere, Tsukki looms over them and the look on his face was so demonic it sent the bullies scattering like a pack of rats. I was terrified, but then he laughed and walked away like it was nothing.”

“I told you, I don’t remember that,” Tsukishima said. Yamaguchi had repeated the story over the years but Tsukishima could never recall saving anyone from anything. It was a shame, since it was the far less embarrassing version of they met.

“That’s true. You should tell them what your first memory of me is then,” Yamaguchi grinned, “because that story is so much better.”

Tsukishima wrinkled his nose. “No.”

The encouragement from the rest of them came immediately.

“C’mon Tsukki.”

"Yeah, tell us!”

“Sounds like an interesting one.”

“Ugh, fine.” Tsukishima flumped further into the seat and pretended not to notice Kuroo’s fingers now trailing up and down his arm to soothe him. “I was practising afterschool in the gym when someone screamed at the top of their lungs that they wanted to join the volleyball club, and it startled me so much I messed up the block and got a volleyball to the face.”

“I was the one who screamed,” Yamaguchi informed them with a laugh. “I was scared to join and I nearly wet myself when the tallest player, who’d scared off three bullies, stalked up to me with a gigantic red mark on his face and asked me what the hell I was doing. I thought Tsukki was going to pummel me.”

“I didn’t look that scary,” Tsukishima muttered. “It wasn’t on purpose anyway.”

Beside him, Kuroo was sitting on the edge of the seat and looking like he was going to fall off if he didn’t get a chance to talk. Tsukishima waited two seconds, then gestured for him to speak.

“You guys played volleyball?” Kuroo blurted out. “We did too!”

 _Told you_ , Yamaguchi mouthed, referring to yesterday’s conversation.

“Kenma was a setter and I was a middle blocker. What positions did you guys play?”

“Pinch server,” Yamaguchi said.

“Middle blocker,” Tsukishima said.

“Manager!” Yachi piped up. “I helped manage their team in high school!”

Kuroo threw his hands up with a whoop. “Oh man, we are so going to get everyone together and play a few rounds of volleyball. It’s been way too long since we’ve been on a court and I could use a good stretch.”

“Beach volleyball,” Kozume murmured. “Good weather for it.”

“That’s it.” Kuroo snapped his fingers. “We’re going to figure out a date that’s good for everyone and we’re all making a day out of it. A couple of the guys at Neko+Ma played volleyball too, and if you know anyone else then you’re welcome to invite them. We do a barbeque too, maybe even a fire at night and if someone has a guitar—”

“Don’t get carried away. How about we set a date first?” Tsukishima suggested, patting him on the knee.

The mushy smile that Kuroo gave him took him aback.

“You complement me so well,” Kuroo happily said, and his arm was around curled around Tsukishima’s shoulders again.

“It’s like you’re made for each other,” Yamaguchi said with a straight face.

“The stars have aligned,” Kozume said. “They’ve finally given Kuroo someone who can stand him.”

“Oh my god,” Kuroo said. “I take back anything nice I’ve ever said about you, Kenma. You are the sassiest little shit I have ever met and one day you’re going to get jumped.”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Kozume said. “Jumped in what way?”

“Okay.” Yachi made slashing motions with her hands and cut the exchange short. “We are going to keep this conversation out of those areas. Moving onto something else now. Oh! I saw one of your games on sale at the shopping centre this week and there were two teenaged boys fighting over the last copy. I thought they were going to murder each other over it.”

Tsukishima tuned them out and took another sip of his daiquiri. There was still about half left, and a quick glance around the table told him he’d have to make another trip to the bar soon.

“Hey.” Kuroo looked at him apprehensively. “Is this okay?”

“Is what okay?”

“Well…” Kuroo indicated to the two of them. “All of this tonight.”

“Us?”

“I suppose so, yeah.”

Tsukishima couldn’t help it. He laughed softly into Kuroo’s shoulder and said with more fondness than he was prepared to show, “Yes, Kuroo. We are okay.”

He still had doubts about them, but right now in the company of friends and under the influence of alcohol, he found that his doubts may not be as big as he feared them to be.

 

.

 

When Tsukishima was back in the warmth of his bed at one o’clock in the morning, he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, thinking about how his two best friends had skipped around him the entire way home and teased him mercilessly about Kuroo’s obvious infatuation.

“You guys looked really close.” Yachi bumped her shoulder into his arm, far too short to reach his shoulder and she was really too adorable for her own good. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have said you guys had known each other forever.”

Tsukishima truly hadn’t known Kuroo that long, only two years. If he wanted to be pedantic then he would say they’d known each other for five years all up, including the three year interlude but that didn’t really count.

“I guess we clicked when we first met.”

Yamaguchi hummed in agreement. “You know, Tsukki, I know you don’t believe in this stuff but I think it was a case of love at first sight. Kuroo couldn’t take his eyes off you, remember?”

“So romantic,” Yachi dreamily sighed.

Tsukishima remembered thinking of how ironical the whole situation was, because he’d grinded his ass into Kuroo’s crotch for money the first time they met and that could hardly be considered romantic. If he discounted the whole stripper thing and focused on the first meeting at Neko+Ma, Tsukishima had taken one look at Kuroo and bolted out of fright and that was even less romantic.

Their relationship, on the whole, was a mess. Everyone else seemed to think they could build upwards from the shaky foundations and they were so convinced it was difficult for Tsukishima not to be infected with their determination. It shouldn’t be hard to send a message. It shouldn’t be hard to show he cared.

Tsukishima reached over to his desk chair where he had thrown his clothes, slipped his phone from his pocket and opened up the camera. It was still in front view, and he angled it above him so that his bare neck and clavicles reflected the faded silver from the moonlight flooding through the window.

 

 **[Tsukishima Kei 1:18AM]**  
Do you want to mark this?

 

.

 

“Holy shit,” Kuroo said out loud and quickly fumbled to open up another thread. It was late and they both had work in the morning, but he was certain that Kenma was still awake and playing the rest of the night away on his PSP.

 

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 1:20AM]**  
kenma u there

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 1:20AM]**  
its an emergency

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 1:20AM]**  
kenma pls u gotta help

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 1:21AM]**  
tsukkis tryna kill me

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 1:21AM]**  
hes so beautiful im gunna die

 **[Kozume Kenma 1:22AM]**  
good riddance

 

“Why are you so cruel?” Kuroo whispered. He needed to talk to someone else, someone who would understand.

 

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 1:23AM]**  
bro bro im dyin

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 1:23AM]**  
if i dont turn up to work tmr tsukki killed me ok

 **[Bokuto Koutarou 1:25AM]**  
HEY MA N KIN DA BUSY RN IF U KNOW WHAY I MEA N

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 1:25AM]**  
BRO U BANGING?? SORRY AND HAVE FUN

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 1:26AM]**  
TELL AKAASHI I SAID HI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!
> 
> Chapter 1 needs a massive overhaul *wipes a tear away* I'll let you guys know when I edit it all. The changes I'll make won't affect the rest of the story, but I need to add more description, change the pacing etc.
> 
> *collapses for another four months*


	3. Chapter 3

The booklets in Tsukishima's hands were shit. He knew it, the teachers knew it and worse of all, the students knew it.

 

It wasn't anything terrible, but there was nothing particularly interesting about it either. A quick flip through the sheets of paper showed space to make illustrations and lines to write descriptions. Then at the back, were some exam-style questions Tsukishima had created to give the students some semblance of a challenge. It was a weak attempt at making the material relevant and he wanted more than anything to burn this embarrassment into the ground.

 

The students of Fukurodani milled around the museum's first floor and looked blankly at the various animal skeletons they were supposed to draw and compare. A quick glance around the area told Tsukishima most of them had half-assed doodles and incomplete sentences in their booklets. What a disaster.

 

This was supposed be a biology excursion focused on evolution. The workbook had been created about a decade ago by some old fart who was too lazy to think up of questions that would force students to think critically. Instead, it was all notes and recall questions. It was a wonder the booklet had passed anyone's standards because it sure wasn't passing the students' and they were the most important stakeholders in this situation.

 

Tsukishima sighed and jotted a note down in his planner.

 

HURRY UP AND CHANGE THE EVOLUTION EXCURSION.

 

He'd done similar things while he interned here, and his drive had taken him far. He was experienced in picking apart material and putting it back together to make something far more relevant and far more interesting. This was just another job to do.

 

The bones and other anatomical displays were held behind mini gates. Apparently, they hadn't existed until about four years ago when Fukurodani students of the time accidentally knocked over two human displays and caused one hell of a paperwork overload. The ethics department must have been spewing, and Tsukishima was relieved nothing similar had happened to him so far.

 

Don't jinx it, he scolded himself.

 

"Tsukishimaaa."

 

The drawl came from Shirofuku Yukie, the head of science at Fukurodani. She was a redheaded lady who often blinked sleepily during conversation like she wanted nothing more than to fall face-first into bed but Tsukishima knew better than to fall for her lethargic looks. Shirofuku was one of the sharpest people he'd ever come across, silent and cutting like a predator when she needed to be. He'd seen her lambasting an incompetent teacher firsthand and needed nothing more to give her his utmost respect.

 

"Hello, Shirofuku." He gave her a nod. "How are you finding the exhibits?"

 

"Same, same," she said, resting her weight on one leg and leaning against the wall. There were dark bags weighing down her eyes and her skin looked rather dull. Had she been working herself too hard again? "I see this stuff so often I can't really look at it in a new light anymore."

 

"I know what you mean. I hope you're not pushing yourself too hard."

 

"Speak for yourself, dino boy. You're not looking too hot either."

 

"Yeah well, I'm pretty sure I see grey in your roots so who's looking worse?"

 

"I better be going grey given how stressed I always am," Shirofuku snorted. "Grey is distinguished. If I had a whole head of grey, those know-it-all parents would stop treating me like I'm some kind of idiot who can't even string a sentence together."

 

"They'd think you were senile instead."

 

"And what would they think of you?" Shirofuku eyed him up and down. Tsukishima didn't think he looked terrible, but he definitely could have looked more put together. His shirt hadn't been ironed, and there was a small nick on the side of his face from shaving this morning. "Teenage boy trying to play adult?"

 

"Piss off," Tsukishima laughed.

 

They had a pretty good working relationship. Fukurodani and the Prefectural Museum had an alliance together since he and Shirofuku first worked together. Shirofuku was one of the most organised people he had ever worked with and her efficiency was so frightening she had cut down their planning and executing stage down by a third of the expected time. Fukurodani often brought their science students here and usually it was okay but this particular program was sucking the souls out of everyone involved.

 

"Your kids look dead," Tsukishima said. He jerked his chin at a small group of boys who were staring at a gorilla skeleton. Two of them were trying too hard to draw a defined browbone and he felt sorry they had to go through this drudgery. He wouldn't have been above complaining if he were a student stuck in this hell of a graveyard.

 

"Actually, they usually look like that. It's creeping closer to exam season and they're starting to realise how much revision they've been slacking on. I mean, they've got years of work to go back over and they don't have that much more time." Shirofuku pushed her shoulder off the wall, and they began wandering around the floor, checking on the students and making sure none of them were making trouble.

 

There were quiet murmurs, a few muttered questions but nothing to be concerned about.

 

"I'm not sure they'll all pass though," Shirofuku mused. "Some of them are doing biology because their parents want them to. It's science, you know? Can't go wrong with science, or at least that's what they think. But you can see it, the kids can't handle the terminology or the concepts. It's killing them."

 

"I don't think this program's helping that much," Tsukishima said. "Looks like it's speeding up their rate of deaths."

 

"I gotta say, this one's not like your usuals."

 

"I didn't make it," Tsukishima said, offended. "But you bet your ass I'm going to change it. You have no idea how much I hate it. It makes me look bad and I can't stand it."

 

"Oh," Shirofuku said, coming to a standstill. "You probably don't want to hear what some of my girls have to say about today then."

 

Tsukishima tried to smother the grimace threatening to bunch up his face but it wasn't quite as successful as he'd hoped it to be. Shirofuku snorted loudly, and slapped him on the shoulder.

 

"It wasn't _that_  bad."

 

"They're teenage girls. They don't hold back when they complain." Tsukishima braced himself for it and made a 'bring it' gesture. "Do it fast. Like ripping off a bandaid from my soul."

 

"I know it hurts," Shirofuku said comfortingly. "You love these old animal bones so much buuttt they're 'boring' and 'a waste of money' because it could've been spent it on a decent lunch."

 

Tsukishima blinked. That was it? That hadn't been as terrible as he thought it would be.

 

Shirofuku reached out and snagged an unsuspecting student from her group of friends. The poor girl looked bewildered, clutching her workbook and her glasses sliding down the slope of her nose.

 

“Miss Shirofuku? Is something wrong?” she asked, looking suspiciously between the two adults. “We’re not misbehaving or anything.”

 

“Mayu,” Shirofuku said. “You were saying some very interesting things before about what you’re doing here today. Care to repeat them?”

 

Mayu’s eyes darted to Tsukishima and she shook her head.

 

“It’s fine,” Tsukishima said, sparing some pity for her. Shirofuku was definitely one of those teachers who smiled serenely while dishing out the most tortuous punishment possible, and it looked like Mayu was familiar with those particular brands. “I’d appreciate any kind of feedback. It’ll help me work out what and how to improve it, to make it more interesting for you guys.”

 

“Go on, Mayu.” Shirofuku nudged the girl. She shot a wicked smirk Tsukishima’s way and winked. “Tell this nice education officer what you said.”

 

Mayu cast a suspicious glance at her teacher. “Are you going to give me an afterschool detention if I so?”

 

“Nah,” Shirofuku said. “I wouldn’t wish you upon the worst staff member in school.”

 

Mayu waited a beat but when Shirofuku didn’t seem to be joking, she flicked her eyes towards Tsukishima but couldn’t hold his gaze. It kind of seemed like Shirofuku had instilled a fear of adults into her, and Tsukishima didn’t know whether to be impressed or terrified.

 

“It’s boring,” Mayu muttered, eyes still looking everywhere but at Tsukishima. “I’d rather stab my eye out with my pencil because it’d be less of a pain. The booklet is full of worksheets asking the same thing over and over again about different animals and it’s not even interesting. But I really don’t care that much about biology in the first place.”

 

“Thank you for your very honest input,” Tsukishima said, trying not to let his face scrunch up any further into a lemon than it already had. He didn’t realise it was this bad but of course he wasn’t looking at the material from the point of view of a student. Stabbing their eyes with pencils was definitely a cry for attention and this program desperately needed it.

 

“You sound like someone’s holding a gun to your head,” Shirofuku snickered. “Right, Mayu?”

 

“Little bit,” Mayu said.

 

“Shut up, Shirofuku,” Tsukishima said. He turned to Mayu and gave a short bow. “I do appreciate your words, and I’ll definitely take them into account when I’m reviewing the program. If you’d prefer, there are exam-style questions at the back that might be of more relevance.”

 

Mayu nodded and, since Shirofuku let her go, slinked back to her friends, who had watched the exchange with curious gazes. They elbowed her when she returned, and spoke in low tones, though they kept throwing furtive looks at Tsukishima and Shirofuku.

 

The two of them ambled on, Tsukishima’s brain already working in overdrive and trying to come up with a solution to a very big problem.

 

“Bit of a shame, isn’t it?” Shirofuku remarked. “I know this booklet isn’t your work. I mean, I’ve seen what you can do but if you’re the one presenting it then… well, it doesn’t look good. As the successor, it’s your responsibility to keep improving what you have. I know you can do better than this.”

 

Tsukishima pressed his palms into his eyes and groaned. How unfair that someone's sloppy work was making a poor reflection on him. It had been on his to-do list but the dinosaur game had taken top priority for the last few weeks. He needed to be able to reproduce by mitosis and split himself up into more copies.

 

"Take it as a learning experience," Shirofuku said. "I mean, this program obviously isn't where you want it to be."

 

"God no," Tsukishima groaned. "It's a mess and I haven't had the time to review it."

 

"Where do you see it?"

 

"A manipulative of sorts," Tsukishima said. "Making copies of the bones that the students can muck around with and compare. Maybe they can build their own skeleton. And you know what, it doesn't even have to be bones. They can look at embryos from different animals and see the similarities there. There are so many things we could do that'd be more interesting. And instead of that booklet with the damned recall questions, it'd be getting them to illustrate the process of evolution like a comic. They could use colours and flowcharts and they could draw the analogous features side by side. Anything that makes them think about representing information in a different manner."

 

"Sounds like you've already got a pretty good idea," Shirofuku remarked. "Do you think what you're doing now is going to get you there?"

 

"Once my currect project takes off, I can take a step back from it and get a start on everything's that been backlogged."

 

"How long will that be?"

 

"Probably not till the next few weeks. And even after that, it's going to take weeks for review and months to implement." Tsukishima ran a hand through his short locks with a disgruntled noise. "There are more schools signing up and it's going to make us look bad. And I'll be the one presenting it, ugh."

 

"At least you're willing to change," Shirofuku said. "And you're willing to try new things. That's more than what I can say for others. As tough as this is right now, keep doing you. And you know what, I'll even help you out with it."

 

Tsukishima stared at her like a survivor spotting a rescue helicopter. "Are you serious?"

 

"I like the sound of creating bones. It would look amazing in my portfolio."

 

Tsukishima inwardly pumped his arm in cheer. If Shirofuku offered to help, then she was sure to follow through. Not to mention, she would blaze right through the work and get it done in half the time. Tsukishima vaguely thought about asking her to mentor him, and teach him how to be so organised.

 

"I'll email you when I have the news," Tsukishima said. "You want to do it?"

 

"For sure, dino boy," Shirofuku said. "Let me know any time and we'll set up a meeting. I'm looking forward to it."

 

"So am I," Tsukishima said. "So am I." 

 

.

  

When Tsukishima stepped into the break room, Michimiya was already there scarfing down a bag full of bread bought from a nearby convenience store and washing it down with watery coffee. He sat opposite her and took out a lunchbox packed courtesy of one housewife Yamaguchi Tadashi.

 

"Wow, that looks so good," Michimiya said, peering at the octopus sausages with their little smiley faces sitting in a fluffy bed of brown rice and vegetables. "I wish I had a roommate who cooked for me, but I don't think I could handle the stress of having a roommate. The university dorms were bad enough."

 

"It's easier if you're on a similar wavelength," Tsukishima said. He and Yamaguchi tended to share the same views on many issues, and even though they did have their little spats every now and then, they were too close to let any of that affect their dynamic. "Otherwise it really would be a nuisance."

 

"Speaking of nuisances," Michimiya joked, "how was the Fukurodani class? I haven't heard anything about broken displays so I'm assuming everything went according to plan."

 

"It did, and that's the problem." Tsukishima used his chopsticks to add emphasis to his words. "It's dull and it's dry and it's an embarrassment to us. We need to revamp as soon as possible, and by that I mean we need to do it yesterday."

 

"On what grounds?"

 

"My experience preparing the program, delivering it and feedback from both the staff and students of Fukurodani. They were all highly negative."

 

"Mmm, that's definitely a cause for concern."

 

"I don't think you know exactly how bad it is," Tsukishima said. "The students were thinking about stabbing their eyes with pencils and I have to say, I'd do the same. The program is thirty years behind today's standards and we really can't deliver it anymore."

 

"Oh, I don't doubt that," Michimiya assured him. "I know there are lots to re-evaluate. The problem is, you're the one who wants to change it so you're the one who'll be in charge. Don't you think you're taking too much onto your plate?"

 

"Not at all," Tsukishima said. "I'll be able to step back from the game and resume my previous role soon enough. I don't see why I can't start reviewing the possible changes today."

 

"Aren't you just a dedicated little dinosaur?" Michimiya grinned.

 

Tsukishima pulled a face. Why did everyone in his life feel the need to tease him about his passion?

 

"If you can sort that out, then I don't see a problem," Michimiya said. "Just don't take on more than you can handle. And don't get too comfortable in your position."

 

Tsukishima was going to take a bite out of a sausage, but he stopped at those words. "What's that supposed to mean?" he suspiciously asked. It didn't sound good.

 

Michimiya lifted one shoulder. "Well, it's that time of the year when management is starting to take a second look at current employees and deciding who gets to stay and who gets to go. You've been here for a decent amount of time--"

 

"Over two and a half years, including my internship," Tsukishima said.

 

"-- and we're going to be looking quite deeply into your role as an education officer, how you have helped shape and improve our programs to fit the national curriculum and your commitment towards your career."

 

Commitment? Tsukishima set his chopsticks down next to his lunchbox. “You sound like you’re trying to tell me something,” he tersely said. “I would rather you stop beating around the bush and tell me straight.”

 

There was a look in Michimiya's eyes, something glinting that flashed away faster than Tsukishima could decipher. He hadn’t seen her like that before, and it unnerved him.

 

“You’ve made some good changes in the time you’ve been here, there’s no doubt about that. But management knows about our little deal and it’s got their knickers in a knot. Can you see this problem from their point of view?”

 

The deal between them had been out of the ordinary. Tsukishima had applied at the museum for a job in the palaeontology department but there had been no vacancies at the time. Michimiya, who had taken a shine to his resume, suggested a different department. The problem was, it was the education department and he didn’t have the qualifications for it so she struck a deal. If Tsukishima completed a one-year diploma sponsored by the museum, he could intern there during his studies and fulfil a two-year contract.

 

Tsukishima hadn’t heard of any offer like that before and jumped headfirst into it. How many chances would he get to work at the museum of his dreams while they paid for his studies and gave him a job at the same time despite it not being the job he wanted? It had been a gamble but one he’d willingly taken because he figured could always transfer departments when a vacancy opened up. It hadn’t happened yet, but Tsukishima was content with where he was in life. Nothing could beat being a full-fledged palaeontologist but being an education officer came close.

 

The job opened up his eyes and showed him there was more to education than met the eye, and gave him more opportunities than he thought possible. If he’d become a palaeontologist who conducted research, then the only people who read his findings would be other academics in similar circles. Articles he published would sell for thirty dollars apiece and the information would go unacknowledged by the public. It was pathetic that researchers demanded recognition but made their works inaccessible.

 

Tsukishima’s current position was unique enough to change that though. He had access to the world’s research at his fingertips and he could transform it all into layman’s terms and distribute it as he pleased. The work he did now was far more meaningful, and he definitely liked the social aspects of it when he forged new connections and friendships.

 

That wasn’t what management saw though. Instead of seeing him buzzing around in his natural habitat, they saw his job on white paper and black ink. They saw an application for the palaeontology department, and they saw that his contract date was coming to an end.

 

Fuck.

 

What was he going to do at the end of the year? He assumed he’d continue working as an education officer but if his contract was terminated instead of renewed then that idea totally went down the drain. If the museum chose not to renew his contract, Tsukishima would have to start looking for jobs elsewhere, possibly even outside of the prefecture.

 

He’d gotten too comfortable.

 

“It’s been almost three years. There still isn’t an opening in palaeontology and it doesn’t look like there will be any in the foreseeable future. Will that affect your decision to stay with us? There isn’t much time left in your contract after all.”

 

“I think that would depend on what management’s decision will be,” Tsukishima carefully said. He didn’t want to cause undue offence, least Michimiya thought he wanted out and personally fired him. “Of course I’d love to continue working here in my current position. It’s not what I signed up for but that doesn’t mean I love my job any less. I enjoy what I do day to day and it’d be an honour if you allowed me to keep working here.”

 

Michimiya slapped her palm on the table and crowed, “That’s what I was looking for!”

 

Tsukishima blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

 

“Commitment!” Michimiya shouted. She thumped her fists on the table, so excited that she needed to keep making noise. “I mean, I know you’re dedicated to your job but I needed to hear it firsthand so I could take it to the rest of management.”

 

“Wait, you mean you’re not letting me go?” Tsukishima asked incredulously.

 

“Let you go? Are you kidding?” Michimiya shot him a dumbfounded look. “We paid for your diploma and locked you into a contract and you think we’re going to let you go like that? For goodness’ sake, Tsukishima!”

 

“The way you put it sounded like you were going to fire me!” Tsukishima protested. “How on earth did you land the position of curator? You need to work on your communication skills.”

 

“I’m still learning!” Michimiya exclaimed, fluttering about in worry. “I’m sorry, it came out wrong. I wasn’t trying to fire you, I was trying to re-hire you!”

 

Tsukishima put his hands over his face and groaned.

 

“Is that a no?” Michimiya asked, amazed. “You just said you wanted to keep working here.”

 

“It’s a yes!” Tsukishima exploded. He pulled his hands down his face in frustration. “How could you even ask… you know how much this job means to me. I wouldn’t abandon it for the world.”

 

“Oh that is really good to hear.” Michimiya fell back into her seat with a thump. She rested a hand over her heart and sighed. “You frightened me for a moment.”

 

“Guess we have that in common.”

 

“But really, you want to stay here?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You’re sure?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Absolutely sure?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“One hundred percent sure?”

 

“Michimiya.”

 

“Just checking!” Michimiya threw her hands up. “I’ve been rallying for a renewal of your contract at all the meetings and it’ll shatter my reputation into dust if you decided to up and leave.”

 

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Tsukishima frowned. He picked up his chopsticks again and resumed eating. The food didn’t taste as good as it usually did, but that could be his tastebuds acting up under the current atmosphere. “I would never do something to make you look bad, not when you pulled so many strings to let me work here. I could never do something so ungrateful.”

 

Michimiya frowned at that statement. “Don’t be like that, Tsukishima. You don’t need to take anything of mine into account when you’re advancing through your career. I mean, I want what’s best for you. If it means you working at another museum, I’ll be the first to give you a recommendation that glows brighter than the sun. But if you want to stay here, I will move the freaking bones of the universe to make that happen.”

 

“I don’t have aspirations to work anywhere else,” Tsukishima firmly said. “I want to stay here.”

 

“What did I do to get such a dedicated employee?” Michimiya wondered. But then she smiled at him, genuine like daisies and just as pretty. “It’s only fitting that you’ll go far. What do you think about that?”

 

“About what, exactly?”

 

“Well, let’s just say a certain curator has been keeping a close eye on her protégé and boasting about him every chance she got… so much so that they could be not only considering extending his contract but also promoting him because of his demonstrated skills in areas he wasn’t hired for.”

 

Tsukishima choked on his rice. Was she saying what he thought she was saying?

 

“No way,” Tsukishima coughed. “You’re jerking me around.”

 

Michimiya laughed, loud and cheerful, and she shook her head so hard her short hair whipped around her cheeks. “Nope! I’m completely serious. I asked you to create a game to test how well you could handle the next step. Instead of working with children all day, you could be working with the cream of the crop across the country to design learning resources in accordance to the national curriculum. It’s basically all the extra tasks you’ve taken on, but you’ll be paid for it. So, what do you think about that?”

 

Tsukishima wiped his lips with a napkin. “I think you’re incredible. But you… Yui, you’re doing too much for me. You really don’t have to.”

 

“Nonsense,” Michimiya briskly said. “I can tell you have a lot of ambition and I like it. If you’re aiming for the top, we’ll take you to the top. It’s my job as your employer, nothing more. One day, you’ll find yourself in a similar position and when that time comes, you’ll have the chance to pay it forward.”

 

“Is this what you’re doing? Paying it forward?”

 

“Mm-hmm. I like to think of it as a good luck chain.”

 

“You’re too nice for your own good,” Tsukishima chided. “One day it’s going to come back and bite you in the ass.”

 

“Oh, it’ll be worth it.” A smirk creeped over Michimiya's face, making her look far more devious than Tsukishima was used to seeing on her face and he instinctively shied back. Michimiya rubbed her hands together and her face shone with unbridled glee. “All promotions are announced at the end-of-year Christmas party. That means if you want people to take you seriously in your new role, you have to attend and make nice with everyone including the board of trustees and all our sponsors.”

 

She cackled at the end of that sentence, clapping like a mad seal and Tsukishima groaned long and loud, hoping to drown her out but her elation was too strong. Tsukishima detested going to company functions because they were stuffy affairs that required him to dress up like a stiff penguin, and shake hands with old men who either had bacon hands or parchments hands and at the end of every night he just wanted to boil his hands in vodka.

 

“You gotta,” Michimiya said, the massive grin never leaving her face. “You skipped last year’s Christmas party and if you skip another one then management’s going to think you lack team spirit and you can bet your sweet bottom dollar they’ll find an excuse to fire you.”

 

“You’re enjoying this too much.” Tsukishima scowled but he couldn’t stay angry. It wasn’t Michimiya’s fault how this was all set up, though she could at least pretend to be a little bit sympathetic to his plight. His energy levels depleted too quickly and he preferred to spend his time at home swaddled in blankets, sipping tea and watching documentaries. That would be a far more enjoyable evening than pretending to be friendly with a bunch of old people. “I’ll go if I get the promotion. But if I don’t then I’m staying in and watching Jurassic Park.”

 

“Dino nerd.”

 

“Astronomy nerd.”

 

“I want you to go to the party, promotion or not.”

 

“I’m not that scared of you.”

 

“You have months to prepare yourself.”

 

“Do you know how fast I’ll get sick of smiling all night?”

 

“Bring your roommate, Tadashi. And his girlfriend too, I forgot her name but she’s cute.”

 

“She’s not his girlfriend.”

 

Yui squinted at him. “Really?”

 

“Unfortunately, yes.”

 

“You’re kidding me.”

 

“Unfortunately, no.”

 

“Well, bring someone to cheer your moody ass up. You need to stay as chirpy as a bird the entire night. We need to make a good impression on everyone.” Contrary to her words, Michimiya pulled a face. She wasn’t fond of the board of trustees or their sponsors since they liked to tell her how to run her museum, and quite rudely too, which was rather arrogant of them since they weren’t the ones dealing with the day to day issues. But Michimiya always faced them with a smile and took their words in stride.

 

“Fine, I’ll be there. I won’t disappoint you, I promise.”

 

“Oh, Tsukishima, you could never do that.”

 

That talk aside, Tsukishima wondered who he could invite. It was usually just Yamaguchi, since it was a fair distance for Yachi to travel, and they liked to stand off to the side making quiet jokes about other people in the room. One of the senior board of trustees, for example, wore a terribly obvious toupee that never sat right on his head. Tsukishima took delight in making loud references to Yamaguchi’s non-existent hair transplant surgeon uncle every time the man was within earshot. It’d actually been a fantastic night, now that he took the pains to think about it. He might as well take Yamaguchi again.

 

But an idea niggled in his mind and he was reluctant to embrace it, knowing it might be too soon and too fast. A small part of him suggested inviting Kuroo to the party, but would that be too much of a step forward? He was still unsure, though that could change in the upcoming months, and if their relationship were to change in that direction then he could ask Kuroo at that time.

 

How could it progress that way though? What was the best way to overcome that obstacle? Even Yamaguchi, the self-proclaimed expert, couldn’t help him here. Yachi might be a better bet but there was no way Tsukishima was going to explain his history with Kuroo to her. _Oh yes, we actually knew each other before. I used to dry-hump him into oblivion. Surprise!_ The poor girl would keel over frothing at the mouth.

 

Maybe for good reason. It wasn’t like Tsukishima’s old profession was something he wanted out in the open air. How could he ensure it stayed buried beneath the ground where it belonged?

 

Maybe he needed to ask someone in the industry. There had been many who danced alongside him: ones who needed money for bills, ones who needed money just in case, and ones who needed flexible hours. Not all of them lasted; some of them couldn’t handle the oppressive sexual environment and quit, while others moved onto other clubs with different rules.

 

There were a few dancers Tsukishima recalled who’d gotten involved with clients. As far as he could remember, not many of those flings worked out because the clients eventually demanded them to quit, stating that their job was degrading, that they didn’t have to sell their bodies, or some other white-knight-in-shining-armour spew.

 

Michimiya bade him goodbye and left him to stew in his thoughts. Tsukishima gave an absentminded nod and began tapping his chopsticks against the side of his lunchbox. Clients had no problem walking into a club and ‘degrading’ the dancers but as soon as they thought they had a chance then they proudly transformed into white knights wanting to rescue their princess from danger. Could Kuroo be one of those guys? Then again, Kuroo had never said anything about him being ‘too good’ for that line of work or tried to persuade him into doing something different. Maybe those comments would come with time, things like _thank god you quit_ and _you were always better than that_.

 

Tsukishima didn’t think he could handle that level of ignorance and prejudice.

 

Maybe he shouldn’t go down this path after all.

 

.

 

  **[Yamaguchi Tadashi 2:23PM]**  
can u pick up some quince after work??

 **[Tsukishima Kei 2:24PM]**  
Why??

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi 2:24PM]**  
cheese platter??

 **[Tsukishima Kei 2:25PM]**  
So fancy??

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi 2:25PM]**  
yachi tmr??

 **[Tsukishima Kei 2:25PM]**  
Tryhard??

 **[Yamaguchi Tadashi 2:26PM]**  
jerkhat??

 

The quince that Yamaguchi liked came from the local market ran during the evenings in a small corner of the city. Apparently the produce there was fresher and cheaper but Tsukishima found on a few occasions that the opposite was true. There were too many shopkeepers who sold sour strawberries and they never sat right with him after those experiences.

 

He bought a small block of quince without trouble and paid a few hundred yen as opposed to paying double the price if he’d bought it at the supermarket. He slipped it into his bag and began the long trek home.

 

It’d been some time since he had the luxury of taking a casual stroll around and it was that time of the evening when people were finishing off for the day. Men and women bustled around him, heading for the nearest train station and he deliberately moved to the side and walked at a slower pace just to feel the city move around him.

 

He’d missed this.

 

The streets were still warm, heat rising from the concrete which had soaked up the sun’s rays all day, and Tsukishima swiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Heat often got the better of him and he’d have to find some air-conditioning soon or at least chug a bottle of water down. At least the streets were easy to navigate, set out in a grid-like fashion that sometimes felt too repetitive though other times felt familiar.

 

As he walked, Tsukishima slowly realised why it felt familiar; he had come to this street many times in the past when he wandered out of the strip club at two in the morning after a night shift and dropped into a convenience store. It looked so much different in broad daylight without all the flashing neon signs to blind him.

 

At that moment, an idea struck him.

 

He knew who he could talk to about his problem.

 

 

.

 

 

The club was just as he’d left it over two years ago. When Tsukishima passed through the wooden double doors hinged with iron of Karasuno, nostalgia hit him like a truck and he stilled in the frame. The lights hung in dim glowing orbs from the ceiling and gave the entire place an earthly glow. It case a healthy light among the few clients who were already seated around the room—it was still early evening and the club was yet to fill up to its full potential. During Friday and Saturday nights, it was impossible to walk across the floor without brushing up against others in a very uncomfortable way.

 

“Firefly?”

 

Tsukishima wrinkled his nose at the stage name, but turned to greet a smiling Sugawara. The older man wore all black professionally with his hair pushed back and bright purple on his lips. He’d always liked dressing up and looking more dashing than anyone could hope to be. He was the club manager who hired Tsukishima and eased him into stripping, one of the kindest people Tsukishima had the honour of knowing. Sometimes, Tsukishima couldn’t believe people like Sugawara existed, so open and affectionate that no-one could resist his charm.

 

“You’ve got to stop calling me that,” Tsukishima said. “It’s obsolete now.”

 

“But it suits you so well,” Sugawara protested, putting his hands on his hips and pursing his lips. “It matches your name, and your blond hair is like a beacon of light to guide lovelorn men to paradise.”

 

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t exaggerate.”

 

“I’m really not, but let’s not argue. It’s wonderful to see you again!” Sugawara clapped his hands on Tsukishima’s shoulders with a bright smile. “What are you doing here? Reapplying for a job, I hope, because you were so popular I would accept your application in a heartbeat.”

 

“Don’t hold your breath because I hadn’t planned on coming in, let alone reapplying.”

 

Sugawara clucked his tongue in disappointment. “What are you here for then, if not to say hello?”

 

“Is Akaashi in?”

 

“Akaashi is always in,” Sugarwara chuckled. “He’s in the back now, about to go onstage. I’ll let him know you’re here. Take a seat and he’ll come see you when he’s done.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Any time. Stay as long as you like, but remember to tip though. Don’t take advantage of the dancers.”

 

“Don’t worry, I know. I’m not a pig.”

 

Tsukishima seated himself towards the middle of the room, where he still had a view of the stage but wasn’t so close that he was near the booming speakers. The last thing he needed were those blasted things destroying his hearing.

 

When Akaashi came onstage, he looked stunning in his ensemble, a nude one piece that covered his body but decked out with hundreds of crystals that reflected the club lights and dazzled the patrons. It was like watching the stars rain down on the most beautiful person in the world. Many clients had once gabbled flattery about how pretty Tsukishima was, but Tsukishima always thought Akaashi was far prettier.

 

Akaashi moved across the stage, elegance and beauty in every step he took. He didn’t strip now, not when there were so few to captivate, and spent his dances showering those few with his undivided attention. He swayed his hips in time with the beat like a hypnotic creature that called for their attention. The men couldn’t tear their eyes from him, one completely missing his mouth with a cup of sake.

 

Akaashi licked his lips in amusement and crept up to them on his hands and knees, making a show of arching back and baring the pale veins in his neck. _Take me_ , he seemed to say, _take me without touching me_. But the men didn’t get a chance to even think how. Akaashi rolled smoothly onto his back and made a show of opening up his legs, running his hands inside his thighs and gently thrusting into the air. He fisted his hair and closed his eyes, the very picture of ecstasy.

 

The men laughed and jostled each other, and even better they took bills out of their wallets and slipped them into Akaashi’s clothing just as the music started to fade out. Akaashi gave them a wicked smile and with one last twist of his hips, he was back on his feet and gliding his way backstage.

 

Akaashi was as successful as always. He always knew how to work the clients and present himself in a different manner to each client that would end with the maximum amount of money stuffed into his briefs. He’d mentored Tsukishima during his time here and often shared the stage, much to the delight of the club patrons.

 

It only took a few minutes until Akaashi appeared by his side and ran his slender fingers through Tsukishima’s short tufts of hair.

 

“I heard someone was looking for me.”

 

Akaashi gave a demure smile and settled himself on Tsukishima’s lap, reaching for his hand and entwining their fingers together. Tsukishima rested his free hand on Akaashi’s hip and returned the smile. They had always been like this, bonding through skinship and emotional intimacy. It wasn’t romantic or anything of the sort, but sometimes it made Tsukishima think it might be the closest he’d ever gotten.

 

“It’s nice to see you again.”

 

“It’s not like you to come and visit out of sentimentality,” Akaashi said, moving his hips from side to side in a tender dance meant just for him. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I don’t need you to try and spare my feelings when I know you’d never intentionally do anything of the sort. Now, why are you here?”

 

They mirrored each other in many ways. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so strange to think Akaashi also couldn’t stand people who beat around the bush. “I need some advice, and thought you’d be the best person to ask. It’s about an ex-client,” Tsukishima said.

 

Akaashi’s hips stilled and he raised one exquisite eyebrow. “Are they bothering you?”

 

“Uh, no.” Tsukishima wouldn’t put Kuroo’s antics like that, especially since he was responsible for riling Kuroo up a few times. Maybe it’d been that way at first, but it was different now. Kuroo was like a puppy who liked getting scraps of attention no matter how small the scraps were. It was endearing, really. “Nothing like that.”

 

“That wasn’t so convincing.” Akaashi tipped Tsukishima’s chin up with one finger and looked him in the eyes. “What are you hiding from me, Kei?”

 

“I’m not hiding anything,” Tsukishima said. “I’m just trying to lead up to the problem.”

 

“Give it to me straight.”

 

“The ex-client wants to date me. I think I want to date him too, against my better judgement. But I’m not sure how to go about it in a way that won’t ruin everything.”

 

“I didn’t think you were the type to date a client.”

 

“I guess things change.”

 

“I guess so.”

 

“I just wanted to know what you think since you’re dating a client.”

 

“Ex-client,” Akaashi corrected. “I made him stop coming since we made it official.”

 

“Oh, I didn’t know that. Congratulations. When’s the wedding?”

 

Akaashi gave him a light slap on the arm. “Don’t get cheeky with me.”

 

“Sorry,” Tsukishima said, not sorry at all.

 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Kei. My relationship with Koutarou will be nothing like yours.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“If I were to describe my relationship with Koutarou in one word, it would be _convenient_. He wants company and I want luxury. We fit each other well in those aspects and any feelings that arise is inconsequential. I don’t love Koutarou the same way he loves me. He knows, and he’s made his peace with that.”

 

“You’re basically a sugarbaby.”

 

“I suppose. We’ve never defined it like that. Koutarou has never paid me a cent but he does spoil me with an extraordinary amount of clothing and jewellery.”

 

“You like it.” Tsukishima laughed.

 

“I do,” Akaashi agreed. “Our relationships will no doubt be very different, so take any advice I give with a grain of salt. What exactly do you want to know?”

 

“How do you keep your work life separated from your private life?” Tsukishima asked. “Isn’t your boyfriend bothered by your job? Doesn’t he try to make you quit or anything?”

 

Akaashi nodded sagely, and sat comfortably on Tsukishima’s lap again. “It’s hard, there’s no lie about that. How is that different from any other relationship though? If anything, this job lets me screen people better. You can tell what kind of person a client is by how they treat you.

“There are clients who refuse to pay money to dancers onstage or on the floor. They’re stingy and think they can get a free wank before security throws them out onto the sidewalk. Then there are clients who pay the exact amount and tip a few hundred yen if they’re in a good mood. And then you have clients who pay you all they can afford because they know you’re an investment. They stick to the rules and respect us. Do you know how rare that is?”

 

“Too many patrons think they’re entitled to our bodies,” Tsukishima said.

 

“Especially if they think they have the money.” Akaashi nodded. “You can tell a person’s character by how they treat the stigmatised members of society. Our ex-clients are good people, I’m sure.”

 

“Yeah, but.” Tsukishima tried to piece together the words that reflected the confusion inside. “How do you know they’re sincere and not acting nice just to get you into bed?”

 

“You should be able to tell the difference between someone who’s genuine and someone who has ulterior motives,” Akaashi said. “Or are you so out of practice you can no longer tell?”

 

Tsukishima huffed. “I’m just trying to figure out if a relationship would be sustainable.”

 

“Go with your instincts,” Akaashi advised. “I think your ex-client has more credit than you’re giving him.”

 

“Yeah.” Tsukishima exhaled. “Yeah. Thanks, Akaashi.”

 

A smile tilted Akaashi’s lips. “You can call me Keiji.”

 

“I’d rather not cross that line.”

 

“Afraid you can’t come back from it?”

 

“Something like that.”

 

Akaashi hid a smile behind his hand.

 

“I’m serious.”

 

“I know, I’m just teasing. I hope everything works out for you.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Akaashi pressed a lingering kiss to Tsukishima’s cheek. “You should come and see me more often, Kei. I’ve missed you.”

 

“I’ve missed you too.” Tsukishima slid his arms around Akaashi’s slim waist and gave him a tight hug before releasing him and letting him off his lap. “Take care, okay?”

 

“Come see me again,” Akaashi insisted, tugging on his hand. “Promise me.”

 

“I promise.” Tsukishima smiled. “I’ll even pay for a lapdance.”

 

“Oh, Kei.” Akaashi smirked. “I’d do that for free.”

 

 

.

 

 

When Tsukishima got home, he tossed the block of quince on the coffee table by Yamaguchi’s feet and collapsed on the couch next to him. They said nothing to each other, just stared at the television which played some black and white film featuring pretty actors with terrible acting skills.

 

“Did you buy quince?” Yamaguchi suddenly asked.

 

“Didn’t you see me chuck it?”

 

“Oh. Okay.”

 

No details about the plot or characters sank into Tsukishima’s mind; he was too busy mulling over his conversation with Akaashi and working out how he wanted to approach this. He knew he wanted to try his hand at a relationship but it was still on shaky grounds. No, he wouldn’t tell Kuroo yet just in case everything went upside-down. He’d go about it slowly and see where it led him.

 

It was worth a shot.

 

“I’ve made a decision,” he announced to the screaming heroine on the television. “I’m going to try and date Kuroo.”

 

Yamaguchi finally peeled his eyes from the screen, and turned a quizzical yet bloodshot look on him. “You’re not doing that already?”

 

“Don’t be such a hypocrite.”

 

“I’m just saying.”

 

“I hope your quince is enough to win Yachi over.”

 

“Don’t mock quince.”

 

“It’s fucking quince. You could have at least gone for a bottle of red wine as well.”

 

“I’m trying to make her like me, not make her afraid of me.”

 

“I’m being extremely honest right now when I’m telling you that you really don’t have that problem.”

 

“Don’t tell me you’re a mind-reader,” Yamaguchi snorted.

 

“That’s the thing,” Tsukishima said. “I’m really not.”

 

.

 

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 6:32PM]**  
Hey, anything fun happened today

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:34PM]**  
Caught up with an old friend. You?

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 6:35PM]**  
I did too, went shopping for engagement rings. Nothing he liked so maybe next week

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:36PM]**  
Sounds like hard work.

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 6:36PM]**  
It was EXHAUSTING

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 6:36PM]**  
I’m about to fall asleep

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 6:37PM]**  
Quick, say something funny

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:37PM]**  
Um

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:37PM]**  
I got called dino boy and dino nerd today

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:37PM]**  
By two different women

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 6:38PM]**  
What. Why

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:39PM]**  
Because I like dinosaurs?

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 6:40PM]**  
Omg. Is that why

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 6:40PM]**  
With the game

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 6:40PM]**  
WOW WOW WOW

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:41PM]**  
I know what you’re thinking.

 **[Tsukishima Kei 6:41PM]**  
Don’t.

 **[Kuroo Tetsurou 6:41PM]**  
DINO NERDBOY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I scrapped the entire draft because it was so boring, then I rage-wrote the entire in about two days because I was so mad at myself lmao so I'm sorry if this chapter is choppier than the others.
> 
> I love Shirofuku and I want to see more of her holy heck she's so pretty.
> 
> Akaashi is aromantic, which is another reason why he and Tsukishima get along so well.


End file.
